


The Last

by ladydragon76



Series: The Last [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> As the last hatchling's spark fades within the pod, the last seeker sinks to his knees in anguish. On another planet, the last Prime worries for the fate of his people despite the new peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** Post Return of The Fallen  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Pairings:** Optimus/Starscream, mention of others  
>  **Warnings:** **READ THIS!** I’m writing one of my own triggers here people because besides being sadistic in weird streaks, I’m also masochistic. Who’d’a guessed? Not me, that’s for sure. This fic features infant death, rape, slash, mpreg, and angst, some fluff and grins too, but those are less likely to bother people I should think. Also, the smut in here is sticky. Back button now if you don’t want to read those things, though I shall be trying to not make any of it gratuitous or just for shock value. I have NO clue where this bunny came from, the muse threw it at my head some time ago and I am going to write it and purge it.  
>  **Notes:** If you’re still reading… Lemme give ya some info so this makes sense on some level because things aren’t all going to fit within the context of the fic. This is 2009 Movie based. I am deliberately ignoring various plot holes, assorted splats, femmes (snarlgrumblehate!) the comics, and those HEINOUS twins which I despise. Be forewarned. I’m making this up. I’m taking bits of canon, bits of my imagination and swish &flick’ing my magick wand to make the TF’s look, well NOT like they did in the movie. If y’all have read any of my other fics and checked out LB82’s art, THAT is how the mechs look to me.
> 
> Oh, and my TFs cry. I enjoy making them cry (sadistic streak again). And now I can point at a canon and say SEE! Cuz Bay made Bumblebee cry. I don’t care if it was fake or just Bee spraying windshield wiper fluid. He did it. I’m taking that and running with it, laughing all the way.
> 
> Note on Cybertronian times:  
>   
> Klik = About a minute  
> Breem = 8.3 minutes  
> Cycle = 2 hours  
> Rotation = 36 hours  
> Decacycle = 3 weeks  
> Vorn = 83 years

Approximately two-thirds of a decacycle, two Earth weeks, after the defeat of The Fallen -

 

\- And the hatchery was nearly empty. 

Almost completely dark.

The many pillared cavern was home to only one resident now.

Starscream stood, his body pressed to a column of uneven, dark rock, one cobalt hand gently petting the last hatchling pod. A wordless crooning wound through the thin air, some ancient lullaby with lilting, gentle trills of sound. It was an imperfect sound though. Not because of Starscream’s infamous voice, but due to the hitch of the seeker’s vents.

Pale pink fluid seeped occasionally from his optics, tracing thin lines over dark cheeks. Clarified energon. Only good for cleaning dust and debris from optical crystals. Sweet to the taste, but of no nutritional value whatsoever.

None.

If it could work, he would find a way to transfuse it to the tiny creature within the pod.

~ | ~

Soon.

It was moving less and less now. Starscream still sang, though who knew if the hatchling could hear him anymore?

Then finally, with a last pale flicker, the dull, tiny spark went and remained dark.

Starscream’s song stopped and silence reigned for a moment. His optics closed, hand tensing where it still lay against the pod. A high keening wail rose as Starscream slid down the column to his knees. Sobs tore from his vocalizer, entire body heaving under the force of his grief.

~ | ~

It seemed like ages later before Starscream managed to gain control over himself. Shaking, but unwilling to leave the task to any other, he stood. A tapered, sharp talon slid from the tip of one of his fingers and he carefully, as gently as possible, cut a gash in the membrane of the pod. He caught the hatchling as fluid gushed out. Some last, desperate hope made him stare intensely at the empty spark chamber.

It wouldn’t have mattered though. It was too early. Far too early. More than half of the pod gestation was left before this one would have had even a hope of survival.

Starscream sank back to his knees, the stillborn infant nearly engulfed by his hands it was so small, and held it close, but gently. Infinitely gentle, because it was so very delicate. Plating so thin and transparent and malleable.

Tears poured over his cheeks again, and dripped down as he tipped his head back. Another wail of grief echoed in the cavern, before he curled down, even his wings pulling forward as he rocked and wept over the hatchling.

~ | ~

Starscream staggered to his feet and left the hatchery. The halls were empty. No surprise there. The Fallen had been destroyed. The Decpticons’ last chance at energon, gone now too. Many fled, taking their chances at finding some other source of fuel. Those who remained were ghosts, quiet and pensive, hiding in their quarters most of the time.

He had known this was coming, painful though it was. So the smelting fires were burning hot and ready.

Starscream opened the thick door, the heat so intense his cooling vents kicked on at their top setting almost instantly. He pulled the fragile form up one last time, nuzzling the tiny face. His movements were hesitant as he laid the hatchling on the paddle, and finally moved it into the fire.

The paddle clattered and banged as it hit the floor, and Starscream slammed the smelter door shut. He flung himself away, wings crashing back against the wall as he clutched at his chest and broke down yet again.

Megatron stared, unsure what to make of all he had witnessed. This broken creature, crumpled and weeping bitterly in a heap against the wall, was not the deadly, traitorous Air Commander he was familiar with. Megatron had heard rumors, mostly before the others had abandoned the cause and left. But none of them had even hinted that Starscream could cry. Just that he was fiercely protective of the hatchlings, and would not allow anyone else to handle their cremations.

Megatron walked slowly over to Starscream. He was not at all sure what to do, but the sight of the proud, arrogant seeker grieving was too disturbing. It made him uneasy. He had to end it. Make it stop.

It just was not _normal_.

He did not hide his approach, did not quiet the slight scuff and crunch of his feet as he crouched by Starscream. Starscream did not even acknowledge him. Megatron sighed.

“Why are you so upset anyway? It’s not as though we have energon to spare around here.”

At least that brought a reaction. Starscream’s head tipped up and he met Megatron’s optics. Megatron instantly regretted it. The sheer desolation on the seeker’s face made him suppress a shudder.

“It’s better this way, isn’t it? It would have just starved to death. That is a far more painful deactivation than simply dying in the pod.” Megatron stopped himself from adding another hesitant, ‘isn’t it’.

Starscream stared at him a moment before answering, voice hollow and despondent. “I told you I was kept here to help spawn the new army.”

Megatron frowned in confusion as Starscream pulled his knees up, buried his face in his arms, and went back to his weeping. That single sentence did not make much sense. Megatron was not interested in punishing his Second in Command for leaving him for dead. He had been _dead_. Sure at first he had been irked, but The Fallen’s orders were orders even Megatron obeyed without question. And should he wish to have an order clarified, he had always been careful to ask very respectfully _after_ saying ‘yes sir’.

So why would Starscream bring up that he had been helping spawn the new army when Megatron asked why it upset-

Realization hit Megatron hard enough to knock him on his aft. Literally.

He twisted a little and put his back to the wall just beyond the reach of Starscream’s shivering wing.

“How? How was that even possible?” Megatron whispered, not expecting an answer.

“I don’t know.” Starscream’s voice was small and muffled. He didn’t look up as he continued to speak, intakes still hitching. “I asked Hook after the first was implanted, but he didn’t know what The Fallen did to make it possible.” There was a brief pause, then in a voice that reminded Megatron just how young Starscream really was, the seeker said, “It hurt so much though.” Starscream looked up then. Looked squarely at Megatron. “I’m not afraid of you hurting me anymore. You can’t hurt me the way he did.”

And Megatron believed him.

They sat in silence for a time, Megatron stunned, his thoughts tangled and riotous.

“It was the last,” he said finally. “Come. We must think of our own survival now-“

Bitter laughter cut Megatron off and he stared into too-bright, red optics. “You’re wrong,” Starscream whispered as he uncurled a bit, hands clutching at his chest armor, just over his spark. “There’s one more. The Fallen implanted him just before your revival.” Fluid flowed free again, and Starscream climbed to his knees. He grabbed Megatron’s hand and placed it at his own throat.

“End me,” Starscream begged in the tone Megatron had come to know over countless vorn meant the seeker was completely, utterly sincere and serious. “End me, I can’t do it again! I can’t watch another of my sparklings fade and die!”

Megatron stared in shock, he didn’t even think to move his hand, not to pull it away or squeeze as Starscream wanted.

Tears flooded down his cheeks and bleared the lower crescent of Starscream’s optics. “I tried,” he whispered. “I really did. No point getting attached to hatchlings that were going to be soldiers, and be sent to fight and die. But I couldn’t help it. Even when there were four of us producing all together, and I wasn’t able to stay conscious when _he_ took the sparkling out of me, I could tell which were mine.”

Starscream was becoming progressively more hysterical as he spoke and Megatron could only stare, aghast. This was _not_ Starscream…

“Please!”

 _Starscream_ begged to live. Not die.

“Please, my lord! I can’t do it again. I held the first born, those that managed to survive the pod gestation, only to have to watch as they faded and died shortly after their births. I can’t! Just kill me, end this! It hurts.” Starscream gasped and sobbed, head bowed before making one final attempt. “Please. We’re all just going to starve to death anyway. Please, just end me now. I can’t live with this pain anymore!”

Horrified, and not bothering to hide it at all, Megatron let the seeker curl over into his side, and even laid an arm around heaving, shaking shoulders.

Eventually Starscream lost consciousness, his frame surprisingly small as he huddled with his helm on Megatron’s thigh. Vents hitched, and wings still trembled under Megatron’s gentle petting. Traitorous, Starscream may have become, but suddenly Megatron could not get the images and memories of a bright young seeker, eager to please, desperate to prove he would live and die for the Decepticon cause… for Megatron… out of his mind.

Somewhere over the vorn, that Starscream had gotten buried, but despite the threats and backstabbing and endless fights, Megatron could never bring himself to actually kill his protégé. He had too much vested in the seeker. He liked him, despite hating him.

It was complex.

He almost laughed. What a ridiculous understatement.

Megatron dropped his head back against the wall behind him and stared up at the rough ceiling.

He had no idea how The Fallen had managed to implant hatchlings in Starscream or any other mech. And where had those mechs run off to? But if the seeker was now carrying the last one, and would rather die… allow Megatron to kill him… instead of watching it starve and die, then…

Megatron activated his comm. “Soundwave.”

“ _Acknowledged, Megatron_.”

“Open communications on this channel." He transmitted an old code, one he probably should have deleted ages ago.

Megatron sighed and waited as the query pinged across half the solar system.

" _What do you want, Megatron?_ " Optimus Prime asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Grieving Starscream by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7263340/chapters/16491424)


	2. Part One

Optimus Prime stood with his feet planted firmly and ready to draw his own weapon if needed. Flanking him was every last Autobot on Earth, all with weapons out, charged, and aimed at the incoming Decepticon shuttle. Also ready, were the NEST forces of Diego Garcia, the whole island on its highest alert.

As far as the humans knew, this one Decepticon, in exchange for a small supply of energon, was bringing an injured and unconscious neutral mech to the Autobots. Prime could hardly believe he had agreed to do this, and knew that his Autobots were just as shocked and disbelieving. Ironhide had been livid. Prowl had rattled off probabilities of this being an ambush, and within five minutes had Optimus shaking his head as contingency plans and security protocols were being debated with Red Alert.

Only Ratchet, of all his officers, had simply nodded and agreed. That too had shocked everyone. Even more when Ratchet had murmured about preparing and quietly left the meeting.

Optimus knew that Ratchet _would_ understand all the implications of a carrier being turned over to the Autobots. Not that any of the Autobots besides the medic actually understood just what a carrier was. He was a little surprised that Megatron had not known. 

And that was another thing. They had been the best of friends before. Called one another ‘brother’. Optimus still knew Megatron well enough to know when the other was lying or setting him up. This, at least, was no trap.

Starscream was a carrier, and was even now landing on Earth, willingly placing himself in Autobot hands for the _chance_ this last infant might survive.

The shuttle landed, dozens of killing weapons pointed at him.

“I’m going to open the cargo bay door now,” a resonant voice informed them.

Prime moved forward two steps. “Do so,” he commanded.

The ramp lowered slowly, interior lights on to show there was no hidden attack coming. Megatron had told Prime that upon leaving Earth the last time, Starscream had shed his drab disguise, and returned to his former bright colors. This was also a relief, as Optimus did not want to have to explain just yet the name of the mech the Autobots were taking in. He could see the bare white expanse of Starscream’s wings where the seeker had once proudly displayed his Decepticon emblems. Prime hoped the humans would not read too much in to those two spots being clean on the otherwise dirty mech.

“Astrotrain’s weapons are still offline. The neutral is in stasis lock,” Ratchet said when the ramp came to rest against the tarmac. Ironhide growled at the lie. Starscream had been forced into recharge and locked there. It was a difference the humans would not understand the reasoning for. Or might, and clamor even louder that he be handed over to them.

Optimus moved, ignoring Ironhide’s second growl, and ducked enough to reach inside the shuttle and lift the seeker into his arms. His face scrunched in disgust. Starscream truly was filthy. Earth and space dust coated his armor. _Something_ had dried on his forearms, wrists and hands, knees, shins and feet, and was now flaking and dry. There were even spots of it on his chest. Optimus schooled his features and stepped back, Starscream a surprisingly light burden cradled against his chest. Prime watched as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe reluctantly loaded a small shipment of energon into the cargo bay.

“I need him in the med bay,” Ratchet murmured. “He’s definitely not in good shape by any stretch of the imagination. His systems are… well just a mess.”

Prime nodded, glancing around to be sure his people were still in position before addressing Astrotrain. “Follow the exact route you used to enter the atmosphere.”

“Right,” Astrotrain said, voice bitter and hard. “Your new planetary defenses.”

“Leave now.” Optimus bit back the urge to add his own aggressive rumble to the mix of low harmonic growls coming from the mechs around him. “You have half a breem to get beyond the defense perimeter.”

Astrotrain snarled, but the cargo bay door closed and he taxied away, careful to follow a precise route through the center of the human weapons poised to deactivate him.

Minutes passed and finally Red Alert spoke. “He’s past the outer grid and the system has been restored. No deviations in his flight path at all.”

“Everyone stand down and go about your business,” Prime ordered. He turned on his heel and headed to the medbay, Ratchet following close in his wake.

“Lay him there,” Ratchet said, pointing at the modified medical berth. “Better seal us in, just in case.”

Optimus gently placed the seeker on the berth, then overrode the door locks. The room had only recently been completed, and now only he and Ratchet would have access. Starscream would remain locked in. Not only was he a threat to the Autobots and humans, but should his identity be discovered, there was no telling what the fallout would be. At least until it was proven he could be trusted. If not, Prime would see to the matter personally.

He sincerely hoped Starscream was willing to live with them peacefully.

Prime crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, watching as Ratchet began a detailed scan. The medic muttered to himself and occasionally added information to the datapad in his hand. The relative silence left Optimus alone with his thoughts.

A carrier. He turned his gaze from Ratchet to the fragile-looking seeker.

Starscream mentioned ‘others’, but Megatron did not know who, or where they were. The Allspark was gone. The shards were gone. This last sparkling was it. Breeding had not been something to cross Prime’s mind before. It was archaic. Lost knowledge to the general populace.

The first thing Optimus had done after ending his first conversation with Megatron had been to ask Ratchet if any of the Autobots were carriers. The medic had shaken his head, said he did not know, but that he would carefully, covertly, look into it over the next few months during check ups.

The next thing Prime had done was wrestle with himself over whether he would be completely out of line to ask any carrier to create. Megatron may honestly not have known how it was done, but Optimus did. He could duplicate The Fallen’s results, but with success. If any were willing. And Megatron had mentioned Starscream’s talk of pain. That was not a part of Prime’s knowledge, nor Ratchet’s, so before any decision could be reached, if there were carriers besides Starscream, they would need to speak with the seeker regarding his experiences.

Prime wondered if maybe Megatron mistook Starscream’s talk of pain, for physical pain, rather than the pain of loss. The three discussions the two leaders had engaged in had been… odd. They had agreed that Earth belonged to the Autobots. There was no purpose in warring any longer. In truth Megatron had sounded… disillusioned. Defeated. Optimus actually hated the tiny spark of pity he felt for Megatron. He had brought this on himself. On all of them! But still, he had been manipulated and twisted from the bright, fierce, young Lord High Protector of Cybertron, into a tyrant.

Optimus sighed and only realized he had already done so a few times, when Ratchet glanced up at him with a small grin. “Bored or brooding?”

Prime chuckled. “Brooding. Of course.”

“Well then.” Ratchet’s grin turned mischievous. “Let me add to your list of things to dwell on and lose recharge time over.”

“He’s that bad off?”

Ratchet nodded, turning to put aside the datapad and retrieve a couple tools. “His energy levels are so low I can’t even risk bringing him over… oh… thirty percent… maybe… It would probably shock his systems too much and kill him.”

Optimus gasped and moved to stand beside the berth, opposite to Ratchet.

“Oh it gets better… worse.” Ratchet carefully fitted a slim tool under the edge of Starscream’s cockpit and pried with slow, gentle movements. “He has no reserves left. None. Zilch. Zero. Nothing.” The cockpit locks released and the glass retracted, shifting and allowing access to Starscream’s chest armor clamps.

“I get the point.”

Ratchet stood up straight and stopped his delicate search to unlock the seeker’s armor. “Do you?” he asked. “Seriously, Optimus, do you understand just how damn near impossible it is to end up with _nothing_ in your reserve tanks? How damn near impossible it is to have survived on so little energy, for so long, that raising just normal levels to a _quarter_ of what they should be, could kill?” Ratchet shook his head and snorted. “Idiot, prideful, aft-headed Decepticons.”

Optimus listened to the muttered curses and continued derogatory and hyphenated references for a few minutes, until Ratchet wound back down. “What else have you found? And what does that lack of energy mean for the sparkling?”

Ratchet sighed and paused as Starscream’s chest armor finally clicked as one clamp unlocked. “Finally. Damn difficult ‘Cons.” Prime’s lips twitched into a slight smile as the medic continued. “I can’t tell about the sparkling right now, though I’d almost be surprised to find it still alive in there.” He stood back and braced his hands against the berth. “Slaggit. He’s gone and modified his armor locks.”

“We have seen that in other Decepticons. I’m not particularly surprised to learn Starscream has as well.”

“Pits, Prime, _I_ modified _my_ armor locks. It’s a smart thing in a war. Annoying for medics with unconscious patients, who are in too delicate a condition to force though.” Ratchet tossed Optimus a grin, then sobered and stood up straight. “We need to wake him. I could do it the long way, but it would be so much easier with his cooperation.”

“And you think we’re going to get that?”

Ratchet’s head cocked to the side and his optics went a little wide. “Optimus,” he began slowly. “ _You_ agreed to let the little slagger come here. I have any issues with him, guess who gets to finagle that cooperation out of him? Why else would I let you stomp around my medbay when I’m trying to work?”

Prime chuckled. “Security detail that might not shoot the patient? And I haven’t stomped at all.”

Ratchet snorted as he searched along Starscream’s left side for the medical access ports. “Security my aft! I’m more than capable of subduing a half dead… mostly dead seeker in my own medbay. You’re here to remind the little slagger about his end of the deal without me making more work for myself. Now here. Hold his hands together. Not too tight, don’t need him panicking, but I don’t want to get smacked by flailing limbs.”

Optimus continued to smile. “You know it freaks out some of the others when you and Ironhide speak to me like that. All informal,” he clarified.

“You know it freaks out some of the others to hear you say things like ‘freaks out’, ‘all informal’, and ‘oops, my bad’.” Ratchet grinned up at Prime as he pulled a thin cord from his wrist, and plugged into Starscream. “Just be careful around Red Alert. He’s still fritzing over the abysmal security this planet boasts. He definitely doesn’t need to hear you having cursing contests with Hide and Lennox. And I _will_ reconfigure you if you even think about trying to glitch his processors by ‘accidentally’ letting him witness a match. This little seeker of yours is enough of a project. I don’t need anymore work for now.”

“My seeker? Definitely not!” Prime laughed. “Primus, Ratch, say that around any number of ‘Bots, and you’re going to be force rebooting logic processors for a month.”

“Well, I’m not claiming him, so he’s all yours. You wanted him here.” Ratchet snickered but quickly sobered. “There it is. Ready?”

“Go ahead.”

Dormant systems whirred as Starscream was released from the forced recharge. “That’s entirely too loud. He’s running rough,” Ratchet muttered as he disconnected his line from the seeker.

~

Someone was calling his name from far away but getting closer. Slag. He did not want to wake up yet.

Then the warnings began flashing up and Starscream moaned. That could only mean one thing. He had been medically rebooted. What had happened this time? He shut them back off and tried to ignore the inexorable pull towards consciousness.

“Get your aft online, Starscream. I’d like to finish looking you over sometime this vorn.”

Starscream frowned and tried to online his optics. Nothing but a static-laced blear of white and red was visible in the bright glare.

Typical medbay lights. Slag them and sadistic medics that liked blinding wounded mechs.

He rebooted his optics, then again, and was finally able to bring them into focus.

“Can you see me now?” the mech deadpanned.

Starscream frowned and stared as memories assailed him. He chose the safest question and went with it. “Weren’t you some lurid green color a decacycle ago?”

A soft chuckle came from Starscream’s right but he really could only bring himself to process one thing at a time right then.

Ratchet frowned. “You willingly turn yourself over to Autobots to help you save the life of your sparkling, and my colors are your biggest concern?” The medic’s gaze shifted over Starscream. “And you hush before I weld your lips together.”

Starscream closed his optics and sighed. What was Megatron thinking? He opened his optics and rolled his head to the right, wondering who they had assigned as a guard. He flinched as Optimus Prime’s distinctive red and blue frame came into view. Both Autobots were staring at Starscream now. He moved his arms, wanting pull his hands up to over the sparkling… and could not.

One large deep blue hand covered and held both of Starscream’s to his abdominal plating. He nearly seized in panic.

“Calm down. I had Optimus hold your hands so you wouldn’t hurt yourself or me if you onlined violently. He’ll let go if you’ll lay still and cooperate.”

Starscream wanted to respond, wanted to look away, but the very hand holding him down had _crushed_ The Fallen’s spark with a single fatal squeeze. His vents hitched, the sound startling another flinch from Starscream.

“We aren’t going to hurt you, Starscream,” Prime said. The deep tones rolled over Starscream and shook him. Primus! This is the mech that _killed_ The Fallen! And he had agreed to come here! Place himself at the mercy of The Prime.

Starscream realized, entirely too late to save himself, that he was just as crazy as they all said he was. What had he been thinking?

Then the hand over his loosened. Prime took one slow step back.

A heavy sigh sounded from his left and Ratchet gripped Starscream’s chin, forcing him to look at the medic. “If you’re done glitching, I’d love it if you’d open your chest armor so I can check your sparkling.”

“What?! No! No you can’t! It’s too soon! I know I have at least another day, maybe two, before the decacycle is up! You can’t take him yet! You-“

“Stop!” Ratchet ordered. “Stop right there.” He waited until Starscream clamped his mouth shut and laid still again. “What are you talking about take him?”

“The Fallen left the sparklings for a full decacycle before taking them out,” Starscream answered in a whisper. “You can’t take him yet. There’s no way he’s strong enough yet. I know it’s only an orn, but-“

“Stop. What do you mean ‘taking them’?”

Starscream glanced back and forth between the frowning Prime and glowering medic, and whimpered. His answer came out a pathetic whisper and he could not even bring himself to care. “A decacycle after the conception The Fallen would call us, and then take the sparkling out to be put in the hatchery. A few joors later we would be called to conceive the next.”

“He what?” Prime gasped softly.

Ratchet spun away with a fierce growl and slammed his fist into the countertop. He turned back just as quickly. “Open. Primus! You would think ancient would equate to some sort of wisdom.”

“What of the others?” Prime asked, voice still shocked and low.

Starscream shivered in indecision over the medic’s order, and so latched on to answering Prime. “There were three others besides me. They’re dead.”

Ratchet covered his face with his hands for a moment. “Ok, Starscream,” he said, voice much calmer when he moved his hands away, resting them lightly on Starscream’s left arm. “I swear on my own spark, I will not, in any way, harm you or your sparkling. Now open your armor and let me see just what kind of mess we’re dealing with here.”

He felt heat creep up into his face even as he obeyed the command. “I tried to keep clean,” Starscream whispered. “We don’t have much, and I was afraid of trying to use strong solvents near the sparklings.” Blue optics burned out to near white before closing and Prime gasped again, cursing quietly. “I can feel him move sometimes. Not right now, but sometimes.”

When Ratchet opened his optics, they were back to their normal shade, if a bit bright still. “It’s fine, Starscream. Well, Primus! No it’s not, but it’s not your fault. I’ll check the sparkling first and then we’ll start cleaning you up and getting your systems back up to functioning.”

Prime’s hand landed on Starscream’s shoulder and he fought the urge to flinch, succeeding only slightly. “You will be completely restored, with the exception of weapons and flight.”

“Flight?!”

“For now you will not leave this room,” Prime answered. “You are in no physical condition to, and we were not… completely honest with the humans in regards to your identity.”

Starscream stared up in horror. No flying? “I’ll go crazy!”

“Let me guess,” Ratchet said, drawing Starscream’s attention. “You got sick of seeing warnings of low fuel and reserve levels that you could do nothing about, and so switched them off. That about right?”

He nodded, but remained silent.

“You’re levels are at seven point three percent right now. You have _no_ reserves at all. How long of a flight can you manage on that? And make sure to take into account the draw the sparkling is putting on your systems.” Ratchet paused a moment. “Well? How long? How long before you drop into stasis lock and all your systems, including the ones keeping the sparkling alive, shut down to keep _you_ alive?”

Starscream shuddered and burned with shame a moment later when he felt tears rolling across the sides of his face. “Not long,” he whimpered.

Ratchet’s expression softened immediately. “No, not long at all. We agreed to help you. Prime will make arrangements in time if you prove trustworthy, but for now, you’re just going to have to accept that for your own and the sparkling’s welfare, you’re going to have to remain in here.”

“Is he alright?” Starscream asked, and resisted the urge to reach into his own chest plates.

“Open your core armor and let me look at him.”

Starscream closed his optics and cycled his respiration, then triggered the command that would expose his spark.

“Slag!” Ratchet swore.

Starscream’s optics popped back open.

“Is that…?” Prime began, but stopped

“What? What’s wrong?” But they ignored him as Ratchet continued cussing, and Prime loomed over Starscream, staring down at his spark. His exposed spark.

The Fallen had once been a Prime.

Starscream shivered. “What?! Slag, just tell me what’s wrong with him!” He winced at his own voice as the shriek echoed off the walls.

Prime patted his shoulder, but stared at Ratchet. The medic sighed. “I’m sorry, Starscream,” he began, and Starscream was already shaking his head in denial of what was coming. “He’s fine. In fact-”

“No… I…” Starscream stopped and blinked. “He’s fine?”

“-they both are,” Ratchet finished.

Starscream blinked again. “Come again?”

Ratchet had the nerve to laugh, and when Starscream hazarded a glance up at Prime. He was grinning too. “I said. They are both fine.” Ratchet paused a moment, a wide smile cutting across his face. “Twins, Starscream. You managed to conceive a set of spark twins.” Ratchet turned away. “It’s definitely a mess in there. The Fallen was an aft-head moron to simply use you the way he did, with no medical care after the births.” He turned back with a small sheet of silver metal, polished to a mirror finish. “The glare of your spark will no doubt interfere with the reflection, but here.”

Starscream lay still as Ratchet moved to crouch down by his head, and then angled the mirror. Starscream gasped as the medic shifted the mirror a little and the glare reduced a bit. He could see his spark, and on the bottom of the crystal casing rested the still-small pod of a hatchling. But instead of just one unborn infant, there were two curled together, their tiny sparks pulsing fast and rhythmic.

The mirror moved after a moment and Ratchet stood up. “Now,” he said while opening a drawer and returning with a cloth and bottle of fluid. He sighed. “You need a lot of work. I’ll do what I can now, but unfortunately, most of what’s needed is going to have to wait until they’re ready to come out. But then you are getting overhauled and scrubbed.”

Starscream glanced between the silent and still smiling at his spark Prime, and Ratchet. “Ready to come out?”

Ratchet nodded as he soaked the cloth and began gently wiping it over the insides of Starscream’s armor and internals. “The Fallen was an idiot. I’d kill him myself again for this alone.” The medic pointed sharply down at Starscream’s chest. “You don’t need to ‘take’ a sparkling out. They birth just fine on their own, and usually within a few days of a decacycle anyways. What I want to know is what difference a day or two, or even three, makes in the end.”

“He said he would’ve taken them out sooner, but it wouldn’t matter. We wouldn’t have been ready for the next implantation any earlier.” Starscream shuddered. “Not that I was ever _ready_ for _**that**_.”

Prime sighed and shook his head. “The nanites,” he said looking at Ratchet. “It would take about a decacycle for the necessary amount of CNA carrying nanites to accumulate after a conception, wouldn’t it?”

Ratchet growled and Starscream tensed, waiting for the medic’s touch to become rough with his anger. “Relax. I know how to be fragged off without damaging my patients.” Ratchet looked up at Prime. “Think the old Primes would bring him back long enough for me to murder him slowly and painfully?”

Prime’s lips twitched in a slight, here and gone again, smile. “I’d rather they not. I’m still sore from that battle.” Prime faced Starscream, this time looking in his optics rather than at the seeker’s spark. “Starscream, can you tell us what The Fallen did? Megatron mentioned pain. But the knowledge passed down to me never mentioned creation hurting.”

“Well of course having the slagging sparkling yanked out of his spark chamber would hurt!” Ratchet snapped. He turned away, throwing the used, and embarrassingly filthy, cloth aside and grabbing a clean one.

“All of it hurt,” Starscream said. “I’ll admit The Fallen sure seemed to be enjoying it, but the four of us he had spawning only ever hurt.”

Ratchet’s hands stopped swiping delicately over his internals, and Prime went so still Starscream was sure he’d stopped his respiration cycles. “What?” Ratchet asked, voice a harsh whisper.

“It all hurt,” Starscream repeated.

“Ratchet finish up, get some fuel into him, then Starscream, I would like for you to start from the beginning.”

“There’s not much more I can do until after the sparklings detach. I need a stronger solvent.” Ratchet followed his words with a few more quick passes of the cloth then motioned for Starscream to close his armor. He did with a sigh of relief.

He was helped to sit, gyros spinning a bit, and tried not to flinch away from Prime. He was stuck here now. He would need to get used to the large Autobot being nearby. Starscream knew they were both disturbed by something, but other than being bred nearly to death, he couldn’t imagine what the problem would be. And leave it to soft-sparked Autobots to be all concerned this late in the game.

Starscream mentally shrugged it off. He was honestly too drained, in too many ways, to work himself up over it. Prime wanted to know the details, well The Fallen was dead. Starscream no longer need fear him or his threats to keep secret what transpired when they were alone.

“Drink this very slowly,” Ratchet ordered and held out a cube… a _real_ cube of energon.

“How…?”

“Solar energy,” Prime answered. “The Fallen was right about one thing. The Earth’s Sun can provide energon. We’ve modified the human design for collecting solar radiation, and turn the energy into energon.” He motioned to the cube. “It’s actually very good.”

“Slowly!” Ratchet repeated.

Starscream obeyed, no fool, and fully aware of what a jolt his systems were in for with real and _fresh_ energon. It was surprisingly smooth, and Starscream took a bigger gulp the second time, body reacting beyond his control, starving systems screaming to consume the energon while he had this chance.

He whined when a large blue hand pulled the cube away from his mouth. “Slowly,” Prime admonished with a smile.

“I know that!” Starscream snapped, then ducked his head, bracing for the blow.

It never came, but the gentle, slow, placating stroke up his wrist and arm instantly set him on edge. Starscream bit his tongue and slowly finished the energon, meanwhile edging away from Prime as unobtrusively as possible.

Ratchet took the empty cube and dispersed the field with a simple squeeze of one red hand, and held Starscream still by his shoulder with the other. When the new scan was over, the medic looked him in the face. “How do you feel?”

Half a dozen snide, sarcastic comments jumped to the forefront of his mind, but Starscream bit them back and shrugged a little. “Exhausted. Still hungry. Everything hurts. I don’t even want to turn my internal diagnostics on yet.

Ratchet was nodding as he walked to the foot of berth and hopped up to sit on the end. Prime glanced around before finding a stool and dragging it over. Starscream sighed.

“From the beginning?” he asked and Prime nodded. Starscream sighed again and pulled his legs up, hands in his lap. “I fled the battle when Megatron died. He can call it cowardice all he likes, but I’m not interested in suicide by Autobot.” He shifted, trying to think about how to tell this. He had never tried to put it in words before.

“The Fallen handled my report fairly well. I had expected far more rage over the Allspark’s destruction, but it was as if he didn’t really even care.” Starscream paused. That had been one of the more frightening audiences he’d endured up to that point, and much of it was a blear thanks to his fear. He shrugged and shook his head. “He didn’t care. He said we would just spawn our own army the old fashioned way, and sent me off.”

“A few orns later I was called back. He said it was time to begin, and ordered me to open my interface panel. I reached to my side, for the medical access ports and he stopped me, motioned me closer and tapped me here.” Starscream tapped the plating at the juncture of his thighs and gave a short bitter laugh. “I didn’t even know there was a panel there. He got tired of waiting for me to search out the right commands, and pried it open himself.”

Starscream risked a glance up at the Autobots, then quickly went back to staring at his hands in his lap. They both looked… shocked? He glanced again. No, shocked was too mild a term. He shook his head and went back to the memory replaying in his mind. “His paneling slid open easily enough and this…” Starscream stalled out, not really knowing what to call it.

“Interface rod,” Ratchet supplied. “That’s the technical term, though ancient slang called it a spike.”

Starscream snorted. “Spike is appropriate,” he sneered. “I remember thinking, but not daring to ask, just what the frag he thought he was going to do with _that_? But he pulled me, had me kneel over his lap-”

“Why didn’t you say no?!” Prime interrupted.

“Are you insane? Disobey The Fallen?” Starscream shook his head at the sheer idiocy. “Sure I liked to test and push Megatron… but _The Fallen_?” He snorted again. That special one he usually reserved for Megatron when he was being especially obtuse, and a plan had failure written all over it, but the tyrant still wanted to go ahead with it.

Then he froze, realizing that he had just sneered at the mech that had _crushed_ The Fallen’s spark in his _hand_.

Starscream shook himself and returned to staring at his hands. “It doesn’t matter. Point is I obeyed. Straddled his lap. He grabbed hold of my hips and pulled. I remember a shock of…” He shook his head. “Agony is too mild a term. I thought I was about to tear apart. When I came to, it was to find myself in the middle of a spark melding. That was Pitfire but nothing compared to when he overloaded. I woke up in my quarters to Hook snarling at me to lie still, that I was still bleeding. He said the sparkling had been implanted, and that I wasn’t to move until my self-repair got the damage taken care of that he couldn’t reach.”

“I didn’t quite understand at first. Hook told me how The Fallen had ordered the remaining Constructicons to clear out a cavern. Get it ready for the pods. The hatchling pods. One of which was now growing in me.”

“Primus,” Prime whispered.

At that Starscream shifted his gaze to Ratchet. Emotions were racing too fast across his face to really get more than just a notion of his thoughts. Rage, horror, pity. Starscream sneered at that. “I don’t want your pity, Autobot!” he snarled, fists clenching. “It doesn’t matter that he didn’t tell us what we would be required to do first. The Fallen decreed it, so we obeyed. It might help for you to remember that this is the same mech _Megatron_ knelt before, and obeyed without question!”

“This began days after you left Earth? Days after the battle in Mission City where Megatron fell?”

Starscream turned his head and faced the Prime. “Yes.”

“I think I might purge,” Ratchet whispered and slid off the berth, turning away.

Prime stared at him, optics wide, expression thunderstruck. “How many?”

Ratchet whirled, gasping, “No!”

Starscream looked back and forth between them in confusion for a moment before it clicked. He faced Prime, and sadly whispered, “Thirty-one. I’ve lost thirty-one.” He forced his voice to strengthen. “It’s why I asked Megatron to deactivate me. I don’t want to survive the death of the thirty-second.” He huffed a slight laugh. “And the thirty-third.” He placed a hand on his chest, over his spark. “Twins.”

Prime’s heavy hand landed on Starscream’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. “You and your sparklings will live, Starscream. We’ll do all we can for you. All three of you.”

He stared, ages of cynicism pulling a wry smirk onto his face. Oh, of course he’d be kept alive. He was a breeder. The Fallen had once been a Prime. Optimus Prime could likely do exactly as The Fallen had. And why wouldn’t he? At least here Starscream would be well maintained. Neither he nor the sparklings spawned on his spark would be left to starve and die.

Starscream nodded in acceptance. He had survived it before. It wasn’t the best life, but maybe the Autobots wouldn’t use him so hard? They were not desperate for an army so they could take over the galaxy, after all.

Ratchet was suddenly there, breaking Starscream out of his thoughts again, and ordering him to lie down and recharge. Telling him he would be roused in a cycle for another small ration of energon. Deciding his new life of obedience would not be nearly so bad as staying with the Decepticons would have been, Starscream cycled down into recharge.

Maybe they would even let him be a part of the hatchlings’ lives?


	3. Part Two

Starscream’s world became a haze of recharge, wake… barely… sip a miniscule amount of energon, recharge some more. Countless vorn of living sparingly, barely recharging, unable to trust his environment and comrades, had finally caught up, and all he could do was submit to his exhaustion.

This time, Starscream woke on his own rather than have Prime or Ratchet interrupting his recharge with a cube in hand. He left his optics off, taking in his new position. How had he ended up curled on his side?

A low voice. Tones angry. “-explain to him! Primus, he doesn’t even seem to understand that he was raped!”

A pause, and Starscream realized it was Ratchet speaking now, his voice a hiss of sound. “Are you frelling kidding me? This is Starscream here, not some innocent little youngling Autobot. He may be ignorant of the exact way creation occurs, but you can damn well bet your last cred he understands he was raped! And!” The last word was said slightly louder, Ratchet stopping Prime from interrupting him. “And if, _if_ by some miracle he doesn’t get that, do you really want to make the whole experience even worse by labeling it for him?”

They were silent a moment and Starscream onlined his optics, looking right at the two mechs standing by the door. “Ratchet’s right,” Starscream said, then rebooted the static out of his vocalizer. “I knew it was rape the moment I woke up to find my spark merged.” He smirked at their startled expressions. “How stupid do you think I am, Prime?”

Starscream rolled to his front side and pillowed his head on his arms, optics closing as he prepared to recharge some more. “Honestly! I may not have known about Primes having spikes to impale poor hapless breeders on, but I _have_ known about spark merging for a very long time.”

The silence continued a few seconds more, then Ratchet spoke up. “You might as well refuel a little more. It’s almost time.” Starscream sighed, and obediently sat up. “And I wasn’t aware Decepticons risked spark merging.

Starscream snorted. “No Decepticon, even the stupid ones I’ve known, is foolish enough to bare his spark to anyone.” He accepted the cube. “Sparking’s for sappy romantic Autobot tales.”

“Spark merging isn’t all that common amongst us either, Starscream,” Prime said. “The bonds that can come from doing so create more risk that is prudent during a war.”

They were silent for a few moments and Starscream got tired of being stared at silently while refueling. “So how does it work?” he asked, and sipped his energon. At least over the last few meals he’d managed to rein in the desire to just pour it down his throat and demand more. At their blank looks he elaborated. “Creating.”

Ratchet sighed. “You’re seriously going to make me explain this?”

Smiling, Starscream shook his head. “Pits, no. Prime wants to play tutor, let him.” Ratchet’s grin was mischievous as his gaze shifted to Prime. “Not that I see what difference it makes,” Starscream added. “You both seem to know. I know the actions and mechanics, just not the why’s behind them. What’s it matter who tells?” Then he paused, processor catching up. “It’s secret knowledge.”

Prime sighed, and dragged the stool around so he could sit and face Starscream better. “It’s not secret, so much as obsolete. Or was before the Allspark’s destruction.”

Ratchet leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “It endangers the carrier’s spark, requires far more energy, and takes longer too. Longer in the creation, and longer for the growth of a fully mature mech.” He shrugged. “It’s messy. Allspark creation was simple. Get a license, get a protoform built, take it to the Temple, and get it a spark.”

Starscream arched a brow ridge. “I’m aware of the Mentoring Regulations. What I want to know is why you and Prime know, actually _know_ , more about the process I went through, and what needs done, and what’s going to happen, than I do.”

“It’s ancient knowledge,” Prime said. “It was handed down to me when I became Prime along with many other things.”

“And good medics know everything,” Ratchet smirked.

Starscream rolled his optics and shifted to better face Prime. “So why’d I get impaled? I think I can guess at the whole spark melding business. How else would a sparkling get a spark? But why the spike? Sadism?”

Prime blinked, expression a little shocked. Starscream suppressed a grin. But he wanted answers, not a beating. “Transfluid. At overload the spike releases transfluid laced with nanites.”

“And those nanites are activated by the carrier’s nanites,” added Ratchet. “They mix, they match, they complete each other’s CNA coding, and are then pumped up to into the carrier’s spark through a small irising valve in the bottom of the chamber. There they react with the new spark and form what you have growing in you now.”

Starscream grimaced. “That’s why I’m such a mess inside. All those extra fluids…”

Ratchet sighed and stepped forward, bumping Starscream’s hand so he would finish the last swallow of energon, then took the empty cube. “You’re a mess inside because that sadistic bastard used you over and over without even giving your systems a chance to recover from the strain. Because no one ever cleaned you up after the pods were removed.”

“I’m filthy,” Starscream whispered, then winced, not having meant to say that out loud.

Prime’s hand patted Starscream’s shoulder, then brushed gently over the back of his wing. “We’ll take care of you, Starscream.”

“We will. I do have one question though. How did The Fallen know who was a carrier and who wasn’t? I can’t see him reading it in your medical records since it doesn’t seem like you _had_ any real medics.”

Starscream shrugged. “No medical records. I don’t know how he knew.”

“Did he ever see your spark?” Prime asked quietly. “I mean before the first… time?”

“Yes. We had to swear fealty. Bare our sparks, prove we were loyal and willing to die on his command. At his whim, really. We just knelt, opened our chests, and he would close them, giving us our life as a Decepticon.”

Ratchet was nodding. “Then that’s how he knew. He’d have been able to see the valve at the bottom of your spark chamber. It’s something only carriers have.”

“Why? And how? I can’t imagine my builders designing something like that. Especially if it’s so unknown.”

“They didn’t. It’s a random mutation. Unpredictable and unintentional.” Ratchet nudged him. “Now you need to get back into recharge. The sparklings are draining you nearly as fast as you refuel.”

Starscream nodded and lay back down. “When will they come? The decacycle was up a joor ago.”

“They’ll come when they’re ready,” was the medic’s cryptic answer. “Now get some more rest.

~ | ~

The next time he woke, Starscream was alone in the medbay with Ratchet. The medic was tinkering with something, but Starscream did not bother with asking after it. He accepted the energon and went back into recharge.

~

Starscream onlined his optics. He was curled on his side again with no memory of sitting up long enough to shift his wings out of the way. The medbay was dim, and a quick glance around had him freezing in panic.

Optimus Prime sat on the stool, leaning back against the wall, and reading from a datapad. Blue optics shifted, and Prime smiled a little at him.

That was even more disconcerting.

“Hungry?” Prime asked and stood. Starscream pushed himself to sit, shoving aside the sheer exhaustion, so he could follow Prime’s movements.

Then again… If Prime was going to attack him, would he really want to see it coming?

“Here.”

Starscream took the cube and drained it as quickly as he could without risking his tanks rebelling. Prime took the empty cube, and Starscream laid back down, shutting his optics and forcing himself back into recharge.

Just before he lost consciousness completely, he thought he felt a light touch stroke over the top of his helm.

~

The lights were bright again. Ratchet must be back. The low murmur of voices proved it. Starscream sat and accepted the cube, ignoring the banter between the two mechs, only half awake.

A large hand rubbed his upper arm, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Starscream?”

“Hmm?” He was finished and just wanted more rest.

“Leave him, Optimus. He’s not really awake. Pits, I’m sure he’s refueling more in recharge than not.” And that was Ratchet chuckling.

Starscream did not care. He twisted over and curled up on his side.

~

The sound of water dripping woke Starscream from recharge. The lights were dimmed, and he startled as his hand was lifted.

“I’m sorry,” Prime murmured. “I didn’t realize you were awake.”

Starscream stared, confusion warring with terror as he watched Prime rub a wet cloth over his arm.

“I’m almost done, and you still have a couple breems left before I can give you the energon.” Prime shrugged, the cloth working higher in firm little circles to Starscream’s upper arm. “I’m not sure quite _why_ Ratchet has your feeding schedule laid out to the minute, but I’ve learned not to go against my CMO’s orders.”

Prime turned away, rinsing and wringing the cloth out, before returning. Starscream remained still. He needed to get used to Prime’s touch. At least he was gentle. The Fallen had simply grabbed, pried, and shredded him with agony. Starscream forced himself to relax, letting Prime’s soft, deep voice roll over him. It was soothing in a way. If he just ignored what would happen after the sparklings were birthed...

Prime did have a nice voice. Pits, even when he yelled, he had a nice voice.

Starscream was jealous.

When he was calm, when he wasn’t sneering or snapping verbal assaults, his voice was not _so_ bad. But let the least bit of irritation or anger in, and his voice grated his own audials. He sort of counted it as one of his weapons…

But wouldn’t it be nice to have a voice like Prime’s? Something smooth and low. Something that could gently lull…

~ | ~

Starscream jerked awake and reached for his chest. He could feel his cockpit glass dividing and shifting away. “Ratchet!” He winced at the panicky tone in his voice.

Ratchet was beside him the next instant, hands gentle on Starscream’s arm. “It’s ok. You’re fine.” The medic left and returned, handing over more energon. “Drink up, then you can just lay on your front side until the sparklings are out.”

He paused with the cube halfway to his mouth. “What?!”

Ratchet chuckled. “It’s time. Just drink that, then lay down. Let gravity do its thing. You’ll feel a pulling sensation, but since I’m not tugging them out, it really shouldn’t hurt this time.”

Starscream drank the energon in stunned disbelief. This was… different. He was nervous. Just lay there? The medic was not going to help?

“Relax, Starscream. Seriously. Just lay down on your front. Pits, you can go back into recharge if you like. Your plating will open on its own and the pod will release and slide out.”

He obeyed, resting his head on his arms, but recharge was not an option. He could feel them moving. Not much, just a shift here, change in pressure there.

Starscream shivered. Unwanted images cropped up in his mind. Every deactivated hatchling he had held flashed through his mind. And he had held nearly every one of them, whether they were his own or not. He whimpered, then jumped as Ratchet’s hand settled on his back between his wings.

“It’ll be fine, Starscream. And Optimus will be here soon. He’s just caught in a meeting with the humans right now.”

Starscream didn’t know why Ratchet thought Prime’s presence would be a welcome thing, and shivered again. He was cold. Why was he cold?

Ratchet’s hand stroked up and down on his back. “They’re going to be fine. Just relax. Let your carrier programming handle this. I’m going to get the incubation tank set up so it’s ready for them, ok?”

Starscream nodded, and turned his head, burying his face in his arms. He remained there, fighting the images and failing. Every little face… Every tiny empty spark chamber… The last one as he tipped his limp little body into the smelter…

He was crying silently by the time his chest armor slid open a breem later.

The door lock beeped. “I came as soon as I could.” Prime’s large hand brushed over Starscream’s wing. “Starscream?”

Starscream couldn’t answer. He shuddered, squirmed a bit, and gasped as laser core armor opened.

“Ratchet?”

“I’m monitoring him. He’s fine, just upset. I’m trying to hurry here, but I want the tank prepared before the hatchlings need it. Do your thing, Optimus, you’ve always been better at the comforting thing than me.”

A sound, suspiciously like a snort, left Prime. “Try to remember I knew you before you cultivated your terrible reputation.”

Ratchet snickered.

Starscream resisted the urge to scream as his spark crystal opened and pain lanced his chest. “It hurts!” he gasped. “Liar! You said it wouldn’t hurt. It hurts!”

“Your spark hurts?” Ratchet asked, all traces of amusement gone.

Starscream lay still under their hands for a moment. No. No, it wasn’t his spark that hurt, it was all around it as the pod began to slide and one of the sparklings twitched. He shook his head, unable to speak.

Ratchet sighed. “I’m sorry, Starscream. It’s your internals and there’s nothing I can do for that right now. You’ll be done in a few minutes, just stay still. I’ll have the tank ready for them in just a minute.” The medic patted his back once more, and Starscream heard as he moved away.

Prime said nothing, but his hands stroked in long, smooth lines. Part of Starscream hated the touch. Hated the mockery of comfort. Hated that he was going to be right back here in this position all too soon. Oh, not right away. Ratchet said Starscream was getting overhauled and repaired first. But soon enough. All too soon, and he would be feeling his insides burn as his spark was pulled. Only next time it would be Prime’s sparkling instead of The Fallen’s.

But despite hating it, Starscream relaxed under the warm touch. The rhythm was soothing. The pressure gentle, but just firm enough to take his mind off the pain a little. He focused on Prime’s hand moving over his back, then out along the flat plane of his wing, then over his helm, then his back to begin the cycle over.

Part of the pod slipped free and the sparklings jerked. Starscream yelped as acid scorched his internals. The pull on his spark increased, then with the sound of a wet plop, it stopped. The burning pain in his chest remained, but was suddenly forgotten as Starscream leaned up and looked under himself at the pod.

“Don’t close your plating,” Ratchet hurried to say.

Starscream obeyed without thought and stared. In the bright light of his spark, the twins were easy to see, despite the pod, Starscream’s own energon blood, and the assorted fluids still dripping from his chassis. They were tiny things. Both could fit in the palm of one of his hands. Their bodies were completely transparent, showing the quick fluttering pulse of their sparks.

“They’re amazing, Star,” Prime murmured from where he had bent over Starscream’s shoulder to peek under the seeker.

Starscream couldn’t tear his optics from them. They seemed so strong. Moving and kicking, little arms reaching, miniscule fingers curling against each other.

“Help him up, Optimus. I need to get them in the incubator.”

He was helped to sit and watched, spark lurching in fear as Ratchet cradled the pod in his hands and took his sparklings away. The sense of loss was suddenly crushing, and Starscream wavered, optics flickering and static marring his vision.

“Starscream?” Prime called.

“Needa… lay down,” he said weakly, and flopped to his back on the berth.

A gasp sounded from his right. “Primus! Ratchet!” Prime sounded distressed. Starscream forced himself to look over at the medic, fear grabbing him, but he couldn’t see the sparklings, didn’t see how Prime could.

“Is his spark guttering,” the medic asked, not turning.

“No, but…”

“Then he can wait a minute. I need to get the hatchlings settled.”

“Will they live?” Starscream asked.

“Ratch, I really think-“

“They’re perfect, Starscream,” Ratchet said, and cast him a quick smile over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You can watch them in the incubator all you want after we get you cleaned up.”

“Ratchet!” Prime snapped. Starscream shuddered at the tone he had only ever heard across the battlefield.

Ratchet’s shoulders hunched, but then he was wiping off his hands and moving. Starscream could see the pod and his hatchlings. The cylindrical tank contained some viscous, gelatinous material, and energon, bright and pink, circulated through it. His creations, his twins, were still squirming. “They can’t hurt each other…?”

“No,” the medic answered, tossing aside the cloth, and walking toward Starscream. “They’re active and strong, but they can’t damage each other. They’re going to be fine.”

Starscream relaxed and closed his optics, sighing in relief, ignoring the pain that still throbbed mercilessly through his body. His creations would live.

Ratchet stepped up to the edge of the berth. “Now let’s get you-“ The medic cut himself off with a harsh curse, but Starscream did not care. He sank gratefully into the dark.

~ | ~

Starscream blinked as he woke. Internal analysis was on, and all systems were functioning within acceptable parameters. They were at the low end, but still acceptable, and far better than they had been in a very long time.

“How are they?” Starscream asked, sitting and ignoring the notifications that communications, weapons and flight were still inaccessible.

Ratchet closed a drawer and came over to Starscream. “See for yourself,” the medic said, pointing to the far corner of the countertop.

There sat the incubation tank, much as Starscream had last seen it. “They’ve grown.”

Ratchet chuckled. “That’s what hatchlings do.”

Starscream stared for a moment, wondering if he would be allowed near them.

A light touch to his arm brought Starscream’s attention to Ratchet. “They’re fine. They’re going to be fine. It’s you we nearly lost.” Starscream cocked his head, though perhaps medical programming is what made Ratchet sound so grave. He certainly could not be distressed by the idea of Star-

Well of course he would be distressed. Starscream was a breeder. If he had deactivated, there went the chance of more sparklings.

“I’ve kept you offline for the last sixteen days. For the first two, I honestly didn’t think you’d manage to pull through. You stabilized the third. Since then, I’ve been trying to get you back to some semblance of functional.”

“Congratulations, you’ve succeeded.” He earned a grin for the droll statement.

“Of course, I succeeded. There’s a reason I had a capture, not kill, bounty on my head during the war.”

“Conceited much?”

“I believe the saying goes, I’m convinced, not conceited,” Ratchet laughed and tapped Starscream’s chest. “Open up. I want to visually check your progress, and explain just why you’re lucky to be alive.”

Starscream obeyed, optics shifting over to the hatchlings as Ratchet looked him over. The medic sighed. “What you need is a trip to the washracks.”

“You have washracks here? Real washracks?”

Ratchet laughed again at Starscream’s eager questions. “Yes, real washracks. Go ahead and close up.” Ratchet stepped back and crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. “Prime’ll be here in a few minutes. He’s making sure there are no humans between here and the washracks. So until he’s done, let me explain what’s going on with you.”

Starscream nodded, trying hard to suppress the giddy excitement of knowing he was _finally_ going to be clean!

“First let me assure you that you are finally healing well. It’s the only reason you’re conscious right now. Unfortunately, the corrosion-“

“The what?!” Panic gripped him. “Corrosion?!”

Ratchet’s brow ridge arched up. “I said you are healing well. However, the corrosion was extreme. I doubt you would have survived the birthing wherever you ‘Cons have been living, and you definitely would have been deactivated by the trauma of The Fallen _taking_ the pod out. In fact, I have no doubt at all how the other three died. You just managed to last longer.”

Starscream smirked, trying to ignore the lingering fear and disgust. “I’ve always said I was of superior quality.”

“I’m sure,” Ratchet grinned. “I also feel I should apologize. I knew your internals were a mess, but I couldn’t see the corrosion. The pod and sparklings hid it. That’s why the birthing hurt and it’s my fault the shock and stress of that pain nearly ended you. I was worried about the tank, something I’ve never built before, being just right for the sparklings, and ignored the warning signs, thinking you were merely upset.”

Starscream stared, knowing the mild shock he felt was showing on his face. “I didn’t… I was upset. All I could see were the ones that had already died.”

Ratchet’s features softened and he dropped his gaze from Starscream to the floor for a moment. “I’m still sorry.” They were silent a moment, Starscream unsure what to say, or even if he was required to say something. Then Ratchet straightened out again and continued. “The corrosion was massive. We cleaned you up as best we could, stabilized you, and I began treating the infection. Now that you’re up, stronger, no longer in danger of the least little shock deactivating you, I’ll be able to move things along faster. It’s still going to take you a while to fully recover, but I’m confident you will.”

Behind Starscream the medbay door locks beeped and opened. Ratchet smiled, and Starscream turned to see Optimus Prime enter.

“First step in moving things along faster is that trip to the washracks,” Ratchet said.

“How do you feel, Starscream?” Prime asked, his hand landing on Starscream’s shoulder, heavy and warm. Starscream managed not to flinch.

“Better than I have in more vorn than I can remember,” he answered honestly.

“Route’s clear then?” Ratchet asked, and Prime nodded.

“Ironhide and Red Alert are keeping watch.”

The wave of bitterness crashed through him, and Starscream sneered. “I can’t fly! I don’t have any weapons. Just what are they guarding? Pits, I’ve been in here alone with both of you and haven’t done a single thing to warrant-“

“Calm down,” Prime interrupted. Starscream snapped his jaw shut with an audible click and stared down at his lap. “They’re guarding to protect you, not because we think you’ll do something.” Prime’s hand squeezed Starscream’s shoulder. “The humans don’t know who you are, and we aren’t prepared to tell them. You’re still injured, and where you may feel much better than you have in a while, I’ve been reading Ratchet’s reports.” Starscream looked up into the Prime’s optics, gauging him for sincerity. “You’re still weakened. You are hardly what I would term defenseless, but the humans could easily harm you. They’re not as weak as Megatron liked to think.”

“And I do _not_ want all my hard work to end up being for nothing,” Ratchet added.

Starscream remained silent. Emotions warred within him. Anger, frustration, fear, resignation too. He had chosen this. His last chance to save his creations. And even if Prime and Ratchet were lying, what difference did it make? Starscream could do nothing but accept his fate and live with the choice. Where else could he go even if he could fly, was willing to abandon the hatchlings, and run?

Ratchet pushed Starscream’s shoulder lightly. “Go on. Quit sulking and go enjoy the washracks. You were damn giddy about the idea just a couple minutes ago. Get!”

Starscream let himself be led out of the medbay for his first look at his new home. The first thing he discovered was that he had not left the medbay, merely a private room off the side of a large medical center. Prime’s hand remained on his shoulder, steering him along as they entered a hall, then out a door.

He stumbled to a halt. It was night, the grounds lit only by the occasional lone bulb over the entrance of a building. Above Starscream the stars were bright, the sky moonless. He heard himself whimper in longing.

Prime’s hand moved, gently cupping the back of his helm, stroking down to rest at the base of his neck. “Once we’re certain we can trust you, I’ll let you fly. I promise.”

Starscream nodded, finding himself grateful again for Prime’s touch. He closed his optics and focused, reining in the desire to fly.

“Come. Ratchet gave me a list of instructions. It’s going to take us a while to get you thoroughly cleaned.”

He nodded again, and let Prime pull him along.

The washracks looked… like washracks. Starscream blinked and glanced around in amazement. There were only two cubicles, but it was of purely Cybertronian design.

“After recharge berths, this was one of the first things we began working on,” Prime chuckled. “I know the humans meant well with their car wash idea, but cold water blasting from a hose is hardly a pleasant way to get clean.”

Starscream’s optic ridge popped up as he watched Prime set about turning on the wash heads. “You let them wash you like some common _car_?” He couldn’t keep the derision of out his voice.

Prime laughed. “They honestly didn’t think we could feel touch on our armor.”

Starscream was motioned over. He bit back a moan as warm solvent poured over his head and ran into the seams of his plating. “You mentioned instructions?” he asked, turning until the fluid pattered against the backs of his wings. Oh that felt perfect…

“I’m sure you’re capable of cleaning yourself, but Ratchet wants me to be certain nothing is missed that you can’t see. Internals and all. Even your spark crystal if you can stand it. He said it’d go a long way in flushing out the cleansers he’s used and any of the corrosion that’s come loose.”

Starscream shook himself, letting plating loosen and armor clamps unlock. Clean would be miraculous. Knowing his very insides were corroded made him want to crawl out of his frame. Clean would be wonderful. “This is bliss,” he murmured, optics dim and only half watching Prime. The other mech had crossed his arms over his chest and leaned sideways against the edge of the cubicle, leaving Starscream room to move.

Neither spoke for a long while, and Starscream felt like he could drift right back into recharge where he stood. Prime shifted and Starscream opened his optics.

“Here,” Prime chuckled and handed him a thick, soft cloth. “If you would like, I can start on your back?”

Starscream shrugged and turned, reminding himself, especially now that he was recovering, that he needed to get used to Prime’s touch. He worked the cloth over his chest plating. Gentle, firm circles rubbed across the back of one wing, then the other, then dipped into the hinges and seams. It was… nice. Starscream opened his chest and let the solvents soak in as he moved on to his arms.

They worked in silence, and Starscream was surprised at how comfortable he felt. He would not forget his place here, but alone with the Prime hardly carried the terror it once had. Prime could have killed or hurt or threatened him any number of times. And where Megatron never seemed to think about how counterproductive it was to injure Starscream, Prime… Well, Prime and Megatron really did not match up in a comparison, did they? Prime may still want to use Starscream, but he likely was not going to beat him into submission to get his way.

He could. And like Megatron, Starscream would let him. He needed Prime. He needed the energon for his creations and himself. And even if he did occasionally have to suffer the pain of implantation, at least he would never have to watch another hatchling fade and die.

Before Starscream knew it, the wash heads were turned off and Prime was helping him dry, carefully searching for any grime or buildup they had missed.

Prime stepped back when they were done, and cracked a grin at Starscream. “Shiny.”

Starscream snickered, feeling entirely too good to bother with restricting himself. Pits, he knew how good he looked when healthy and clean. A glance down confirmed it. His white gleamed, almost reflective. Crimson and cobalt glowed under the washrack’s bright lights. “Tell Ratchet to dim those damn lights before I get back and blind him.”

He had never heard so open and honest a laugh from Prime before. The sound echoed off the walls, vibrating through Starscream. He cocked his head and really looked at Prime, and decided his fate could be far worse. There was also the promise of flight.

Starscream stared up at the sky as Prime led him back to the medbay.

~

“Wow,” Ratchet said as the door locked behind Starscream and Prime. “You’re shiny.”

“That’s what I said,” Prime chuckled.

Ratchet grinned and motioned Starscream to the berth. Starscream sighed in disappointment but obeyed and lay down on his back, chest plating sliding smoothly open.

“That alone is much better,” Ratchet said. “And just give me a minute to look you over and recoat that corrosion. Your self-repair is doing good, but I still want to help it along. You’ve been left to literally fester with infection for far too long.” Starscream stared up at the ceiling, and waited for the medic to finish with him.

“There. Now go stare at your hatchlings, I know you want to.” Starscream was up, armor locking shut before Ratchet finished speaking.

The hatchlings were not all that much larger than they had been at birth, but the pod was quite a bit bigger. And it would need to be. That much Starscream knew from past experience. The first dozen or so hatchlings had grown well. Their pods elongating and making room that the hatchling would then grow to fill.

Sixteen days… So a bit more than two decacycles left before they would be ready to leave the pod. By then their transparent, soft plating would be more silver-grey. The bright pulse of their sparks would be harder to see. Starscream’s first born had been the strongest of the group. He had lived three days.

Starscream shuddered and forced his thoughts back to the present.

“-one see?” Ratchet asked.

“No,” Prime was answering as he picked up the stool and walked toward Starscream. “Ironhide says the humans’ patrol passed while Starscream and I were still in the washracks. Here.”

Starscream startled to realize the stool was for him. He sat, staring up at Prime as he leaned over Starscream’s shoulder and looked at the hatchlings, a smile on his face.

“That’s good at least,” Ratchet said.

“Why?” Starscream asked, trying to regain his mental balance over this new and solicitous gesture.

“Why, what?” Prime asked.

“You said the humans don’t know who I am. Why is it so important that they don’t see me?” Prime stood and turned to lean a hip on the counter’s edge. Behind him, Ratchet’s tool clinked against whatever project he was working on. “What did you tell them about me?”

“We told them, as agreed, that you are an injured neutral Cybertronian. The Decepticons had found you, and Megatron decided to use you as a bargaining chip, knowing I’d pay the price in energon for your life to be spared. We knew you would be injured, so severely injured that you may not survive, but it was worth it to try.”

Starscream flinched. “Meaning had I woke up uncooperative, I wouldn’t have survived.” He paused, realization dawning, and cursed himself for being such a fool. “Meaning I may _still_ not survive my injuries!” Prime held his gaze, face a stoic mask. Fury bubbled up hot and bitter, and just as fast, Starscream forced it back down. “What about the hatchlings?”

Ratchet stepped around Prime and sat himself on the corner of Starscream’s berth. “That is still a topic of hot debate.” He held up his hand when Starscream’s mouth dropped open. “Of _course_ we aren’t going to hurt the little ones!”

“There are trust issues with some of the humans,” Prime explained. “We’re all of the same opinion that we would be placing ourselves in danger to admit there is a way for our kind to propagate without the Allspark. However, just what to tell the humans in regards to two new, plainly infantile Cybertronians, is the debate.”

“We have some time to decide,” Ratchet said. “But there’re more of us here now. More officers that expect to have their say.”

“Tell me about it,” Prime sighed. He shook his head and turned so he could bend over, leaning on the counter and watching the hatchlings again. “The humans that live here on this island are trustworthy. Battle brothers. We’ve placed our lives in their hands more times than I like to count, and they have done the same.”

“All these vorn later, and we’re still in fear of corrupt governments,” Starscream murmured, his optics following the random movements of his hatchlings. He itched to touch them. Even if it was just the pod, but there was no way to do that right now.

Silence reigned for a while, interrupted only by a quiet clink or clank as Ratchet worked.

“They’re amazing, Starscream.” Prime’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “No matter what, they’ll be protected. Cherished.” Starscream nodded in response to Prime’s quiet words, tracing one finger down the side of the tank. “It’s going to be fun having new life around.”

Starscream sighed, and looked Prime in the face. “So I know I’m not completely healed yet, but when do you want to implant the next one?”

There was a beat of utter silence.

Ratchet began to say something, but was too busy sputtering for Starscream to bother paying attention to him. Besides, it was Prime he had to worry about. But Prime was just staring at him, optics a bit wide. Starscream sighed. “Look, I… appreciate the time you’re allowing me to get used to you. The Fallen never did, and maybe that’s why when it came right down to it, I couldn’t submit fully. Maybe that’s why it hurt so fragging much. All the little touches, the comforting, the solicitous little gestures… But I’m better. Better than I have been in ages, so why keep putting off the topic? I think it’s the suspense setting me on edge. So when?”

Prime just stared for a minute, before his gaze dropped to where he hand rested on Starscream’s shoulder. Then he recoiled, jerking his hand away as though it had been burned. Starscream frowned, watching as Prime’s face swam with shock and horror.

“I’d never… I didn’t… Did you really think…? Oh, Primus!”

And then Prime was gone, leaving Starscream to stare after him as the door slid shut and the lock beeped.

Starscream jumped a bit as something bounced off his face. He looked down to see a small pile of the cloths Ratchet used, then faced the medic.

Ratchet radiated fury. Something that might have worried Starscream had the medic not just thrown harmless _cloth_ at him. He would have laughed actually, had he not been so confused.

“Idiot ‘Con! Do you really think _Optimus slagging Prime_ would rape you?! How the fark glitched are you?!”

Starscream was on his feet in an instant. “It’s hardly rape if I’m willing! I know how valuable I am now, and you better hope Megatron never figures out exactly what he let go!”

“Not rape? Primus, Starscream!” Ratchet threw his hands in the air, and paced away a few steps before whirling back around. “All I’ve ever heard is how ‘Cons rant on about soft-sparked Autobots this, and sappy weak Autobots that! You think our leader… the mech that goes around lecturing about freedom being the right of all sentient beings… is going to demand that you _breed_ for him?!”

“I’m not free, am I?” Starscream shot back, then continued on before Ratchet could start in on him again. “I’m not! I can’t come or go as I please! And fine, yes, I made an assumption, but it was based on experience, and on _his_ behavior! It’s perfectly reasonable of me to think that a ‘soft-sparked Autobot’ would want to give me a chance to become accustomed to his touch before taking me! All he does is touch me! What was I supposed to think?”

Ratchet sighed, and leaned against the counter. “Optimus wants you free. He’s been debating that case with not just his officers, but all the Autobots here from the moment he agreed to accept you on Earth. The price of that freedom is not letting him rape you and get more sparklings for his army! The price is you being trustworthy. Willing to go by a different designation so the humans don’t figure out who you are, get along with everyone here on the base! Don’t kill or maim or pick fights, and to go along with whatever he finally does decide to tell the humans about the hatchlings.”

Starscream slowly sank back down on to the stool. “Given his reaction just now, I believe you. But then why is he always touching me?”

Ratchet gave a short laugh and shook his head. “Optimus is tactile. Has been for as long as I’ve known him. And then when the war started, and he’d be going along and talking to the injured, the dying, he saw that nearly all of them responded well to the gentle, firm hand of a proud leader. It’s platonic. And really he doesn’t touch more than anyone else. He just doesn’t restrict himself to close friends only.”

Sighing, Starscream twisted on his seat so he could watch the hatchlings again. “I’ll apologize when he gets over his panic attack.”

Ratchet snorted a laugh and set a cube of energon beside Starscream’s arm, then bent to pick up the cloths he’d thrown. “I suppose I can see how you would misread his intentions. Especially given all you’ve been through.” Starscream glowered up at the medic as the cloths were flicked against his helm. “Of course I haven’t seen him run away that fast in a long time. Could be a while before you get to make that apology.”

Starscream huffed through his vents as the medic moved away, then turned back to his creations. Truthfully, he was rather embarrassed. It had been a long time since he had so grossly misjudged a situation.

Grasping for something to fill the silence, he took a sip of energon then asked the question that had been burning in his processor since onlining on Earth for the first time.

Starscream gave Ratchet his best smirk. “So why did you change your colors? It was such a… cheerful shade of chartreuse.”

This time he caught the cloth and threw it back.

~ | ~

The sound of voices woke him. A low murmur. Again. Then Ratchet’s voice.

Starscream groaned as he stretched, wondering who Prime had sent in his place, because the other voice was a new one. Not Prime’s.

“About time you woke up,” Ratchet said over his shoulder.

Starscream ignored him in favor of finding out who his new guard was. What he saw froze the energon in his lines.

He was off the berth and squeezing the black hand tight in his fist, a low, nearly subsonic growl vibrating the air around him. Sideswipe’s optics were wide as he stared up in surprise. “Do not touch them.”

“They aren’t going to hurt the hatchlings, Starscream,” Ratchet said in a calm voice from just behind him.

Starscream snarled and released Sideswipe’s hand, only to rap his knuckles sharply against the red mech’s helm.

“Ow! Hey!” Sideswipe ducked back, hands coming up to block as Sunstreaker moved forward.

Starscream glared at them both. “As loud as that was in your head, multiply it a few dozen times. Now think about how such a sudden loud noise would affect _my_ hatchlings!”

“Touch my brother again-“

“Shut up and move!” Starscream snapped, claws out and fingers clenching and releasing as he fought the urge to just shred the mech in his way.

“Easy,” Ratchet murmured. His hands settled on the top edge of Starscream’s wings, thumbs stroking in soothing lines. His voice remained soft and calm. “Sunny. You might want to consider that you are standing between a seeker and the hatchlings he’s trying to protect. And before you start in about him laying hands on your dumbaft twin, you might want to remember I gave explicit instructions that neither of you touch the tank.”

Sunstreaker did not move for a long moment, and the growl started up in Starscream again despite Ratchet’s attempt at calming him. Then, without breaking optic contact, Sunstreaker shifted to the side, nudging Sideswipe, and leaving Starscream unimpeded access to his hatchlings. Starscream pulled out of Ratchet’s light hold and stepped firmly into place in front of the incubation tank. He left his wings flared high and angry, blocking the twins’ view of his hatchlings.

The room was silent for a few minutes, then Ratchet returned. A cube of energon was set by Starscream’s hand, and the stool clanged slightly as the medic put it down. “That’s a full ration there.” Then Ratchet went back to his work.

Starscream pulled the stool closer and sat, deciding to ignore the Autobot twins for a while. He was shaken and surprised at the strength of his reaction. He had been unable to back down, unable to act on the logic of knowing he needed to make nice with all the Autobots. But the yellow one was between him and his hatchlings…

And it was not even as if Sideswipe had _intended_ harm. At worst the hatchlings would have been startled and woken again. Pits, Starscream had only last night tapped the tank himself. He had not done it on purpose, simply been touching the tank and lost in thought, and had unthinking drummed his fingers lightly against the glass. The reaction had been immediate from the hatchlings. They had both jerked hard, little bodies squirming and struggling, tiny mouths opening in what Starscream could imagine were silent cries.

It had taken half a cycle for them to finally settle, and that was with Starscream singing lullabies to them.

Part of him wanted to remain angry at Sideswipe. The other half was just weary and drained from the rush of panic and fury.

“They’re really cute.” Starscream glanced up as Sideswipe stepped closer and daringly leaned over the seeker’s wing to rest his elbows on the counter. “What are ya gonna name them?”

Startled, Starscream just stared for a moment. “Name them?”

“Yeah. They’re your kids, don’t you want to name them?”

“Sideswipe,” Ratchet said in a warning tone.

“What?” Sideswipe asked, glancing over at the medic before turning back to the hatchlings. Ratchet sighed, but said nothing else.

Starscream still stared at the… red… Hmmm…

“Why are you red now?”

Sunstreaker snickered, and Sideswipe whipped his head to the side to stare at Starscream.

“He’s sucking up to Prime was my first guess, but at least he’s got some color again, instead of protoform grey.”

“It was called ‘Blade Silver’, not ‘protoform grey’. Also, I would be red _and_ blue if I was sucking up to Prime,” Sideswipe said with an airy wave, optics shifting back to the hatchlings.

Sunstreaker snorted, and moved up to lean on the counter beside his brother. “I guess that’s true. And you’re the wrong shade besides.” Starscream watched a slow smile curl across Sunstreaker’s face. “And how would picking Cliffjumper’s color impress Prime?”

Sideswipe stood abruptly, frame rigid, and Starscream glanced over at Ratchet, judging the severity of the situation by the medic’s reaction.

Well… utter lack of reaction. All right, so this was not yet at the brawling stage. Then again, Starscream reminded himself, these were Autobots, not Decepticons.

“I am nothing _close_ to Cliffjumper’s color! He was a plain, boring aft, red-orange color. _This_ ,” Sideswipe said, gesturing at his body, “is metallic fleck crimson!” He twisted just slightly, letting the bright medbay lights catch and refract over his armor. “See the depth? The shine?” Sideswipe snorted and leaned back over Starscream’s wing, muttering, “Cliffjumper red. Primus, and you think you’re an artist?”

Bemused, Starscream concluded his best option really was to just ignore them.


	4. Part Three

Over the following weeks, Starscream got to know each of the Autobots. Or, at least, see them and begin to. Ratchet took advantage of what he called Prime’s ‘get to know the recovering _neutral_ ’ plot, and was subjecting everyone to routine maintenance checks.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were actually rather amusing. Sideswipe did most of the talking, but Sunstreaker’s timing when he did add something almost always made Starscream grin. Bluestreak lived up to his name. Starscream was not sure when the young sharpshooter left, as he had long since tuned his relentless chatter out and dropped into recharge.

There was of course Bumblebee. The tension had been thick, even after he drudged up the courage to slink closer to Starscream, and ask after the hatchlings. Jolt was quiet and curious. He spoke politely when spoken to, but otherwise seemed content to let Ratchet perform his maintenance, and then busy himself with reading from a datapad.

~ | ~

Starscream remembered Perceptor from the academy. He was an upperclassman when Starscream began, but his intelligence and expertise in such a wide variety of fields had garnered the soft-spoken mech quite the reputation. He was pleased to speak with Starscream, and very curious about the hatchlings. Most of his questions were fine, but when he began asking over the process, Starscream cast a quick glance at Ratchet. With the medic’s sharp negative head movement, Starscream ducked his head.

“I’d prefer not to talk about that.” Apparently the Autobots knew he had been hurt by The Fallen, used and watched as the hatchlings deactivated, but they had not been told yet _how_ it had been done.

Perceptor had reached out and patted his shoulder in sympathy. “Of course not. How insensitive of me.” Then he had changed the topic.

~ | ~

Wheeljack and Beachcomber. The inventor and the geologist. Wheeljack was jovial, ready to joke and laugh. He picked at Ratchet until threats were made, then backed off only long enough to let the medic cool off a little before starting in again. Something only Ratchet’s best friend could safely do to such a degree.

Starscream sat back and enjoyed the show, quietly discussing the vast and differing geologic phenomena of Earth with Beachcomber.

~ | ~

Grapple and Hoist were interesting characters. Starscream was shocked when, grumbling about doubting a Decepticon would appreciate it, Grapple showed him the schematics to a small, railed recharge berth. He had taken the idea from the humans and how some cultures placed their infants in ‘cribs’. He thought it would be handy for when Starscream was busy, and could not keep his optics glued to sleeping infants, or needed to keep them contained for whatever reason. Cheerful Hoist had been thrilled with Starscream’s approval, and promised the berth would be ready for the twins before they were born.

“You handled him well,” Ratchet said after Grapple and Hoist’s shift ended, and they had left. At Starscream’s quizzical expression, Ratchet elaborated. “Grapple’s a bit of a grouch. Thinks he’s underappreciated.”

“Is he?” Starscream asked.

Ratchet had blinked and shrugged. “How many times can you tell a mech his designs are perfect, the projects wonderful, and thank you, before the bitching about being underappreciated drives off the most tenacious mech?”

Starscream shook his head, having no answer for that one.

~ | ~

Mirage was a surprise. The ghost spy that was once a Towers Brat, and had a long, long list of kills to his name, was actually very polite to Starscream. Of course impeccable manners were a given in the Towers, and acting was part and parcel of any good spy.

“Itching to kill me, huh?” Starscream asked.

Mirage smiled a genuinely sweet smile, and did not answer. If he were to be honest, that unnerved the Pits out of Starscream.

~ | ~

“So…” Starscream said, and stared at the dark blue and red mech beside him.

“Hmm?” Skids had pulled in another stool from somewhere, and now his chin rested on his arms as he stared at the hatchlings.

Quite possibly everyone’s favorite pastime.

“What do you do?”

“Theoretician,” answered Skids, his door wings flexing slightly. “I work with theories.”

“Uh huh. Meaning?” 

Ratchet snickered. “Meaning his head’s in the clouds more often than a seeker’s.”

Starscream grinned, but Skids really did seem lost out in space somewhere. He shook his head, copied Skids’ position, and went back to staring at his creations.

~ | ~

Hotrod and Tracks seemed an unlikely team, but the gibbering idiot looked to get along just fine with the princess.

Ratchet had tried desperately to admonish Starscream for that observation, but could not stop laughing long enough to get the words out. That and pale tears of laughter rolling down the medic’s face hardly made for an intimidating sight. And that was, of course, assuming Starscream felt even the slightest shade of fear for Ratchet anymore.

Which he did not.

~ | ~

Hound and Trailbreaker were… interesting too. Both loved Earth. Loved the organic life. Loved the sunshine. The rain. The dirt. The cloud formations…

Starscream quickly feigned recharge just so they would stop talking about it. Or at least keep their voices too low for him to hear. It was not that he hated Earth. In fact he loved it, loved the sky. Loved the wind and wet clouds as he shredded them with his wings...

The desire to fly had not been this strong in ages. He bit back a whimper, gave up feigning, and forced himself into recharge just to escape.

~ | ~

Pointblank. He was pure depressing. The war was over, even Starscream told him that. He had been there when Prime and Megatron had agreed on terms. Earth was Autobot territory. Pits! The whole solar system was Autobot territory. Megatron had agreed to point any Autobots to Earth so long as they did not attack first. Prime had also agreed to let any Decepticons know that Megatron had left for another system.

Unfortunately, Megatron and Soundwave were still debating which one when Starscream was sent to Earth.

None of that information reassured Pointblank. The war had gone on too long. Cybertron was dead, and fine, so they were no longer technically fighting Decepticons… There were other life forms out there.

Ratchet had ended up kicking Pointblank out only half way through his shift.

“I need some high grade! Primus!”

“We had one like him once,” Starscream said. “Dead End.” He snickered. “I haven’t heard from him or any of his gestalt in ages. I wonder if he survived the war, or managed to go out all shiny like he hoped?”

Ratchet blinked. “I need some high grade.”

Starscream laughed.

~ | ~

Smokescreen and Inferno came bearing games. Or well, Smokescreen did. And they were gambling games. Ratchet pointed out the distinct lack of betting material, and asked how that was going to work.

Smokescreen pulled out a pile of discs. They were simple, crude, and definitely not worth the scrap steel they had been cut from. Starscream choked on his breakfast to learn they each symbolized one breem of babysitting time with his hatchlings. He was not sure at all whether he was pleased or not.

Ratchet then asked what Starscream was supposed to bet with.

“Same thing. I’m sure he wants _some_ time with his creations.”

Starscream counted himself lucky he was an accomplished gambler.

~ | ~

Starscream stared in fascination as Blurr spoke nonstop. He had been annoyed by Bluestreak’s constant chatter and rambling topics. But he could only _stare_ at Blurr.

“That’s amazing,” Starscream said as another epic tale came to an end.

“I-know-right?-I’ve-always-loved-the-classics.“

“No.” Starscream shook his head. “The story was good, sure, but it’s just damn impressive you can tell it in less than two breems. Last time I read it, it took me a cycle and a half. How do you do that without your vocalizer glitching?”

Blurr shrugged and grinned. “I-have-no-idea.-It-annoys-some-people.” Optics shifted a quick glance toward Ratchet, who was intently ignoring them.

Starscream smirked. “Not me! Tell me another!”

Blurr giggled in fast forward, and launched into another story.

~ | ~

“About time you two got back,” Ratchet said as the door opened.

Starscream glanced back, wondering who had been sent this time. He was on his feet in an instant, stool clanging as it tipped over and fell. “Skyfire!”

“Hiya, Starscream.” It was said cheerfully enough, but there was tension there.

“But… but… I thought you were dead!” Starscream was leaning heavily on the medical berth. “The building collapsed… How?”

Then he was caught up in the big mech’s arms and crying. “I’m sorry. I thought you were dead for a while too, but when I was finally repaired, I found out you were with the Decepticons. I couldn’t contact you then.” Skyfire held him tight, muttering, “I’m sorry,” over and over.

Starscream held Skyfire back just as fiercely for a few moments, then shoved away. “Aft-headed glitch! You’re my _best friend_. Did you think I would have shot you?!”

Skyfire cast a grin over at Ratchet. “His weapons are offline right?”

“Yeah…”

“Yes. Yes, Starscream, I thought you, the Decepticon, would shoot me once you learned I was with the Autobots.”

Starscream glared, then with lightning speed, launched forward and slashed his claws across Skyfire’s chest. There was a short shriek of metal on metal, but the damage was superficial. He could never hurt Skyfire. Not really. “That! Is for making me mourn your death, you idiot! You have a lot of time to make up to me!”

Skyfire rolled his optics and pushed Starscream lightly. Starscream stumbled back, and only kept his feet under him because he hit the wall. He glared a moment longer. “I’ve missed you, you impossible oaf.”

“Me too, Flitmouse.”

“Oh, Primus! You are _not_ allowed to call me that! It was banned ages ago!”

Skyfire took a seat on the berth and let Ratchet run his scans. “If you say so, Flitmouse.”

Starscream narrowed his optics. “I’m going to train my creations to torment you daily.”

“So… You guys know each other then?” All optics went to the red mech by the door. “Groovy.” He leaned sideways to look around Skyfire and see Ratchet. “This a normal day for you, Ratch?”

“Oh this is nothing. Blaster meet Starscream. Starscream play nice.”

He sent a pout at the medic, then grinned and purred, “How nice?”

~ | ~

He also had different guards at night. Starscream was not entirely sure why he needed night guards. He could not leave the medbay, as the door was locked. He was no longer in critical condition. And though _he_ still obsessively worried over the health of his hatchlings, they were doing well. And no doubt Ratchet had some type of monitor on them that would alert him the instant something changed in their status. Come to think of it, Starscream probably had some type of monitoring device on him as well.

He shrugged it off. No one ever said gaining their trust would be easy.

Of his guards, Ironhide was the most disconcerting at first. Starscream woke more than once to find the powerful mech just staring at him. Curious to see what would happen, Starscream had stared right back for half the first night before boredom set in and he dropped back into recharge. Eventually he became used to it, and no longer woke.

Then one night, a quiet, low hum pulled Starscream out of recharge. He was lying curled on his left side and had a clear view when he opened his optics. Ironhide, bane of Decepticons all over the galaxy, was singing to the hatchlings! A miniature war took place in Starscream’s mind. Take the opportunity to tease the scary cannon wielding mech for the perverse, if dangerous, joy of getting to see his expression when he realized Starscream was listening. Or. Go back to recharge, keeping quiet the knowledge that not only were his hatchlings completely safe with Ironhide, but Starscream himself was safe too, despite their history. Left unprovoked, Ironhide was unlikely to attack.

Starscream closed his optics, choosing the unfamiliar, but completely welcome, feeling of safety, and went back into recharge.

~ | ~

Red Alert was another night guard. He flinched and then glowered every time Starscream woke and looked at him. Unlike Ironhide, Starscream felt no compunctions whatsoever about teasing Red Alert.

“You’re twitching again,” Starscream muttered, leaving his optics shut.

“I’m not twitching!”

“You are.”

“You’re not even looking at me!”

“I can hear just fine,” Starscream said, careful to keep his voice bored-sounding and half mumbled.

“I am _not_ twitching!”

Starscream sat up abruptly, flicking his wings out of the way and curling up on his side, back to Red Alert. He bit at his lip to keep from laughing out loud at Red Alert’s very obvious flinch.

He let a breem pass, then grinned. “You have _got_ to stop twitching.”

“I am not twitching!” Red Alert snapped, vents heaving loud gusts of air in his irritation.

Starscream peeked over his shoulder. “Would you mind? I am trying to recharge here, and the hatchlings _can_ hear too. You’re going to distress them.”

Red Alert’s face was priceless. Irritation mixed with uncertainty, and a flickering gaze was cast at the incubation tank.

Shifting a bit to get comfortable, Starscream murmured. “And you _know_ Ratchet will be… irked… if the hatchlings become distressed.”

There was a half-suppressed groan from Red Alert. Starscream fell into recharge smiling.

~ | ~

And then there was Prowl. Most nights he was there, Starscream barely noted it. The Autobot’s Second in Command was quiet, calm, did not rise to Starscream’s attempts at baiting him into verbal sparring matches. He merely sat on the stool in the corner by the hatchlings, and worked from a datapad in the dimly lit room.

He was boring.

Or so Starscream had thought.

Starscream lay on his front, feet in the air and upside down on his berth, staring at Prowl. Everyone had their breaking point.

“You’re boring.”

“You should be recharging,” Prowl replied, optics never leaving his datapad.

“You’re so boring, I can’t recharge.”

“That is illogical.”

Starscream wanted to throw some of Ratchet’s cleaning cloths at Prowl’s head. Instead he snickered. “Being illogical does not automatically make something untrue.”

Prowl’s lips quirked up in a slight smile, and he looked up from his datapad. “Do you want to play a game?”

“I am not some youngling to fall for that ‘see how long you can go without talking’ game.”

“Good, because I would win,” Prowl chuckled. “I was actually thinking of a round of Quasar.”

Starscream sat up. “You do _not_ have Quasar!” Though the statement came out sounding more like a question.

In answer, Prowl stood, trading the datapad for a small oval disc in his subspace. Starscream slid back, making room for Prowl to sit on the end of his berth. The disc was set between them and activated. Bright, three-dimensional, holographic lines glowed in the dim.

Starscream stared in disbelief for a moment, then flashed a bright smile at Prowl. “I’m red!”

“Gold goes first.”

“That isn’t always a benefit in this game.”

Prowl nodded, and the game began.

Hours later, the door locks beeped and the lights flared from barely on, to fully bright. Starscream hissed a curse at Ratchet, optics never leaving the now mostly gold hologram.

“Primus! Have you two been up all night? Starscream!” The lights suddenly faded to a more tolerable setting. “Prowl!” Ratchet huffed.

Prowl grinned through the game at Starscream. “Eighty percent is more than adequate for lighting. Anything more is a waste of energy.”

Ratchet stalked over and held out a cube to each of them. “The entire base is solar powered.” Starscream sipped his energon, letting the cube hide his smile.

“That is no excuse for being wasteful.” Prowl motioned to the energon. “And thank you.”

Ratchet snorted. “You’re welcome.” He turned to the game. “Who’s gold?”

“That would be Prowl,” Starscream said.

“Ah. And whose turn is it?”

“That would be mine,” Starscream sighed, staring back at the hologram, and trying to decide how he could save himself.

“Ah,” Ratchet repeated. Then he leaned in, poked his finger at one of Starscream’s markers to activate it, and dragged it to a point in the lower mid quadrant. The hologram rippled and gold was quickly replaced by red. Everywhere.

Prowl sighed and deactivated the game. “He had not yet noticed that.”

Ratchet smirked and leaned his elbows on the berth as Prowl slipped off the other side, and headed for the door. “You just hate that I can beat you with illogic on a game known for being a logical challenge.”

“That move was unorthodox, not illogical.” Prowl tapped the unlock code and the door slid open.

“Semantics,” Ratchet said, smiling.

“Hardly.” Prowl glanced over his shoulder, smiling back at the medic, then left.

Starscream stared for a moment before looking down at Ratchet.

“What?”

“ _What_?” Starscream repeated. “You’re asking me ‘what’?” He snorted and downed the rest of his energon. “Please. I’ve had my fair share of lovers, and I know _The Look_ , when I see it. You’re either ‘facing each other, or want to be ‘facing each other.”

Ratchet stood and chuckled. “We’re not ‘facing. Not that it’s any of your business,” he added in an attempt to be stern.

“So you want to then.”

Pulling tools out in preparation for the day’s check ups, Ratchet remained silent. Starscream slid off the berth and leaned his hip against the counter. “He is an attractive mech.”

“Oh knock it off, Starscream. There’s nothing there.”

“But you want there to be,” Starscream grinned.

Ratchet sighed, pinning Starscream with a mild glare. “ _You_ are still recovering. _You_ should not have spent the night playing games when you _should_ have been recharging. Now get on the berth and rest.”

He held up his hands in surrender and did as told, but could not resist a parting shot. “Just because I stop talking about it, doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Shut up, Starscream.”

“You have such a sweet temperament.” Something light and soft bounced off Starscream’s back and he laughed. “And stop throwing those damn rags at me.”

~ | ~

“Is this all you do?” Sunstreaker asked.

“You do realize that they aren’t going anywhere, right?” Sideswipe made himself at home leaning over Starscream’s wing as usual.

“You watch one hundred and eleven hatchlings die and see how you feel about the last two,” Starscream snarled.

“Let me repeat,” Ratchet began. “These two not only were allowed to grow until term and detach from your energon and spark when _they_ were ready, but they’re also soaking in energon.”

“Kinda gooey lookin’ for energon,” Sideswipe murmured.

“It’s a nutrient rich gel that has energon flowing through it, as you can plainly see, Sideswipe.”

“So does that mean the goo tastes good?”

Starscream snickered. There were a few mechs that seemed to enjoy teasing and testing Ratchet as much as Starscream did. Sideswipe was definitely one. Surprisingly, Ironhide was another. Styles varied, but it was entertainment all the same.

Ratchet huffed and deliberately refocused on the small thermo regulator he was building.

“So, seriously. Your aft got a dent yet from always parking it on that stool?”

Smirking, Starscream said, “My aft is perfect.”

“Wouldn’t know. You’re always sitting on it, so I haven’t gotten a decent look.”

“Are you implying you want to see my aft?”

“Are you offering?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Sideswipe cocked his head and grinned. “Oh sweetspark, if I were flirting with you, you’d be a puddle of shivering, whimpering goo, begging me to take you, take you now.”

“That kinda goo?” Starscream asked flicking a lazy gesture at the incubator.

“Probably tastier,” Sideswipe purred.

“Primus, save me!” Ratchet exclaimed. “Get out! I don’t need so called guards helping me look after Starscream.”

“But, Ratch-“

“Don’t you ‘but, Ratch’ me-“

“-we’re supposed to be getting to know Starscream here.”

“Get out. This is the last time I’m asking nice.”

“That was more demand, than request,” Sunstreaker said, jumping into the conversation.

“Don’t yell, Ratchet, you’ll wake the hatchlings,” Starscream grinned.

“Can they really hear us?” Sideswipe asked, leaning back in.

“Of course they can hear. About… oh a week, week and a half before they’re ready to leave the pod, their optics will open and they can even see.”

“They can see?” Ratchet asked, all previous irritation gone in an instant. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

Starscream shrugged. “I know because I spent a lot of time in the hatchery. I doubt they can see well, but they can detect motion. Although, the hatchery didn’t have tanks. The hatchlings only had the pod itself to look through. The gel and energon distort our vision, even if only slightly. I’m sure these two may have a harder time tracking movement.”

“That’s amazing,” Ratchet whispered. He was leaning on Sideswipe’s shoulders, staring at the moving hatchlings.

“They’re very active,” Starscream commented, gently touching the glass.

Ratchet reached over and patted Starscream’s shoulder. “They’re stronger than the others. They may have had the very last of your strength, but they had that much, and now they’re in there. They’re going to be fine. What… maybe a month left? Tops? Then you can hold them and play with them.” Ratchet chucked as he stood. “Pits, you’ve got a base full of mechs just waiting to spoil them rotten for you. Enjoy this time of peace while it lasts.”

Things were quiet for a few minutes, then, almost whispering, Sideswipe asked, “You’ll let me hold them, right? I mean… I won’t hurt them. But…” He stopped, shaking his head. “Pits! I’m jealous of you. I want one of my own.”

Starscream blinked, fear racing through his body. What if they were taken from him? What if he was hardly allowed near them? What if-

“Starscream?” Sideswipe tapped the back of his hand against Starscream’s arm. “What’s wrong? Your wing’s vibrating and it kinda tickles.”

Ignoring Sideswipe, he faced the medic. Ratchet had stopped at Sideswipe’s words. “Starscream?”

“I’m still going to see them after they’re born? Aren’t I?”

Ratchet nodded. “They’re your infants. We’ll help. You know you’ll never be short a babysitter if you need a break, but they’re yours. They won’t be taken from you.”

Starscream nodded and went back to watching the hatchlings wriggle around in their pod. But all the assurance in the universe from Ratchet would not matter at all. It was up to Prime. And he had not seen him in two weeks. It was irritating. Starscream’s respect for the mech dropped a notch or two. So he had been surprised, shocked even to his very core with Starscream’s misinterpretation. What kind of mech… What kind of leader hid away for two weeks?

“Where’s Prime been hiding?” Starscream snarled, not expecting an answer.

“Got called to some human meeting a couple weeks ago,” Sunstreaker answered. “Supposed to be back tomorrow. Why?”

There was a suspicious snerk of sound from Ratchet, and the twins turned to look at him in curiosity. Starscream stared resolutely at his hatchlings.

~ | ~

Now that everyone had met Starscream, ‘guarding’ was on a volunteer basis. He was surprised by the number of mechs interested in sitting in a smallish room all day, but then many were probably just fascinated by the hatchlings.

Skyfire was available, and so he and Starscream, with Ratchet, had quietly worked on projects all day. Ratchet was assembling components for Wheeljack, and Skyfire had brought datapads full of his ideas. Currently, Skyfire, Beachcomber, Wheeljack and Perceptor were focusing on finding a way to improve the efficiency of their base, as well as work on solutions for Prime to offer the humans for their own power sources.

There had been no major breakthroughs, but ideas, hypotheses, and theories had flowed. It was possibly one of the best days Starscream had had since the last time he had stood beside Skyfire to work.

But now Skyfire was gone, and Ratchet was finishing the last bit of his work. Starscream paced restlessly. There really was not much room, so he ended up circling his berth over and over.

“Why are you so twitchy?” Ratchet asked.

“I’m not- Oh, ha, ha.”

Ratchet snickered. “Would you at least stop roaming in circles? You’re making me dizzy.” He finished the component, set it aside, and turned to face Starscream. “Out with it.”

Starscream huffed and hopped up to sit on the side of the berth. “I thought he was going to be back today.”

A grin cracked across Ratchet’s face. “Prime? Prime’s got you pacing with wings hitched and-“

“Shut up! Not like that.”

“I call bullshit. Primus, and here I thought that something had gone wrong between you and Skyfire, and I just hadn’t caught it.”

Starscream tipped his head at the human word, and frowned. “I thought he was hiding from me. My respect for him as a leader was at serious risk.” He threw his hands in the air and flopped back across the berth, letting his head hang upside down off the far side. “I mean fine, if he’s naïve enough to run because I shocked him, but to say gone two weeks?” He snorted.

Ratchet chuckled as he walked around and bent over, hands braced on the berth so he hung over Starscream. “Aww. You miss him. And here I didn’t think you liked him touching you.”

Optics narrowing, Starscream asked, “How’s Prowl? His berth comfortable?”

“Oh, that’s not going to work.” But Ratchet pushed away, and went back to put his tools away.

Starscream sat up and watched. “I don’t miss him. He holds my fate in his hands. Until I get to talk to him, I’m stuck in this tiny room. And then I find out he’s not even on base?!”

Ratchet sighed and leaned against the counter, wiping off his hands. “I’m sorry. Really. It’s no fun at all to be cooped up in here, and I know it’s even harder for you.”

“You’re wrong! I lived in a lab at the academy. So long as I have something to keep me occupied, I’m fine. But there’s nothing to do!”

“You were content to watch the hatchlings.”

“I know,” Starscream sighed. “And I don’t want to be too far from them, but… Pits! Why can’t I go to the main lab? Everything is there. I can be of some _use_ again!” He was caught between wanting to sneer or cringe at Ratchet’s sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, Starscream. I really am. If it were up to me, you could go pretty much wherever you wanted on the base. I know you aren’t going to cause trouble. You’re too concerned over the hatchlings and being separated from them, for that to be a risk.” Starscream winced at the medic’s brutal honesty. “But I’m not even fourth in rank around here anymore. I can’t make that decision.”

“Red Alert outranks you?”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. But unless it’s a medical issue, security ranks higher.”

“And when it’s a medical issue, you equal Prime.”

Ratchet snorted. “Oh don’t tell him that! I have him thinking I can boss him around when it comes to his health. And technically I can, but I have to have one other officer backing me up. Luckily, Optimus doesn’t get himself slagged _too_ often.”

Starscream huddled in a bit on himself at that reminder. At the time he had thought everything he had suffered would be paid in full. Optimus Prime was dead. The Decepticons would have energon, could rebuild… the hatchlings would live. Everything he had originally joined the cause for would come to fruition.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, and Starscream shuddered. Then groaned as sudden longing grabbed him. “Slag,” he whispered. He did miss the fragger and all his touching.

Ratchet sighed and pulled Starscream into a loose hug. “He’s been held up. I’m sorry. Red Alert and his paranoia have kept us alive more times than I can count, but it did grind my gears a bit to not be able to tell you Optimus got called away.”

Starscream laid his head on Ratchet’s shoulder and slumped. “I don’t hate this, you know,” he murmured. “Even locked up here, this is a better life than I’ve had since before the war started.”

“But it’s frustrating,” Ratchet said. “I told you. I trust you.”

“Because of the hatchlings.” The words were bitter.

“Partly. But I also _know_ this is the best you’ve had it in a long time. I’ve been all through your internals. _All_ of them.” Ratchet pushed back and looked Starscream square in the optics. “You Starscream, for good or ill, can always be counted on to look out for your own best interests. The hatchlings are a part of that now. You know you have it good here. You know how you’re expected to behave. I know you’ll do it too.”

Starscream tipped his head. “Oh?”

“You said it yourself. You respect Optimus Prime.” Ratchet grinned. “Did you respect Megatron? Ever?”

“In the beginning,” Starscream whispered. This hurt. Frag it all! He looked over at his hatchlings and kept his gaze locked there.

“Ever trust him?”

Starscream snorted in derision. No. He had known from the first moment that he could not turn his back on Megatron. Their relationship was complex, strange, impossible to put into words. Megatron had pushed Starscream to heights he never would have attained otherwise, but there had never been trust. Had Starscream given in and broken down before the war had been effectively over, or even over anything other than the hatchlings, Megatron would have killed him.

In fact, it was a sign of Megatron’s own sense of defeat that he had left Starscream alive, let alone contacted Prime. That single act of… charity… it could not have been compassion… still rocked Starscream to his core.

“And what about Optimus?”

His optics narrowed, but Starscream really thought about it. Had he not seen Prime’s reaction himself, he would never have believed words and assurances alone. He would have continued to live, wondering when Prime would change his mind and order him to submit. “He can’t stop the ones that don’t want me here from making things difficult.” Starscream shook his head when Ratchet opened his mouth to interrupt. “But he _will_ try.”

“So you trust him.”

Starscream huffed and shifted a bit so Ratchet would let go of him. “Yes. I trust him not to use me. If Megatron knew and thought he had any hope of duplicating what The Fallen did, he would never have sent me away. Pits! He probably knows Prime never would even if he could. Win, win situation. He’s rid of me, I’m Prime’s problem, and Prime’s too much a goody-goody to use me as a breeder so there will be no Autobot rising, or some such nonsense.” He stopped and looked at Ratchet. The medic had gone stiff. “What?”

Ratchet shook his head and turned away.

“What did you say? Bullshit? Now tell me why you went still like that! What are you hiding?”

“Here.” Ratchet handed him a cube and then conspicuously stepped back out of reach. “You’re damn lucky for Megatron’s ignorance regarding conception. Starscream, I know, and Optimus knows, that _any_ mech can do to you what The Fallen did.”

Energon splashed over Starscream’s fingers, and he set the cube aside before he spilled all of it. Ratchet came over with a cloth and cleaned Starscream’s shaking hands. “Primus,” he gasped.

“All mechs have interface rods. All mechs have ports. Only some mechs have the proper pump and line to their sparks to be carriers.”

“This is why you haven’t told anyone _how_ I ended up with hatchlings,” Starscream whispered.

Ratchet nodded. “We have a good group of mechs here. I don’t for a single second think any of them would force you physically. And if anyone tries, beat the slag out of them and find me or Optimus right away. But. There’s a lot of hopelessness now that the Allspark is gone. Mechs are wondering which of us will be that last left alive. It’s a long time coming. But who wants to be the last Cybertronian?”

Starscream clasped his hands together and pressed them into his lap to help still the shaking. “And if they knew _they_ could create new life with me…” He could not seem to get his voice above a whisper.

“Optimus is worried that you would be… left little choice on whether you ever carry another sparkling or not. Brow beaten, coerced, guilt-tripped, made to feel responsible and beholden. Not all Autobots are as nice and soft-sparked as you ‘Cons like to think.” Ratchet was silent a moment. “I can disconnect it. Remove the pump, cut the line short and cap it. You’d never have to worry about someone using you as a breeder again.”

Starscream shoved away and huddled in the corner, staring blindly at his creations. “No.”

“Star-“

“No!” he shouted, and jabbed a finger at the incubation tank. “Who do you think is most likely to be the last Cybertronian? Them! One of them!” Starscream clutched his head and sank onto the stool. “No,” he said in a calm, firm voice.

Ratchet was silent for a moment before the energon cube was set down beside Starscream’s elbow. “He checked in earlier today. A few more days, a week, and he hopes to be back. You’ll be able to talk to him then.” The locks beeped. His night guard was coming. Ratchet squeezed Starscream’s shoulder. “Rest tonight. I know you feel better, but you’re still recovering.”

Starscream nodded and drank the energon, optics never leaving his hatchlings.

~ | ~

“Hey! Wake up! Starscream!”

Starscream knocked away Ratchet’s hands when the medic kept shaking him.

“Come on! You’re going to love this!”

“I’m going to love slagging your aft,” Starscream muttered, and covered his face.

Ratchet grabbed Starscream’s wrists and pulled until the seeker gave up and sat slumped on the edge of his berth. “Now have we learned our lesson about staying up all night gambling with Ironhide?”

“I hate you.”

Snickering, Ratchet tugged again and Starscream landed on his feet. “This will wake you right up.”

Starscream let himself be dragged along, only really beginning to wake when he realized Ratchet was heading toward the hatchlings. “They aren’t ready yet!” he yelped in panic, and rushed to the tank.

“Relax. No, they aren’t, but look.” Ratchet leaned in beside Starscream, sliding in under his left wing and pointing to one hatchling. “Look at his back.”

Starscream stared, the world reeling around him.

What had, until this morning, just looked like back plating was now separate from the hatchling’s body. The tips did not even span the breadth of the tiny shoulders, but it was clear what the two little flaps would become.

“Winglets,” Starscream breathed. He reached out and gently touched the glass. Then leaned in further, craning his neck to see the other hatchling’s back.

“They are twins, ya know.”

“Seekerlings! Primus! There were only two others in the whole hatchery! One of mine and one from Misfire.” Starscream slipped back and was lucky to land on the stool. “The Fallen said he wished he could control it. But even he couldn’t influence the traits the sparklings developed.”

“Worth waking up for?” Ratchet chuckled.

Starscream just reached forward again and touched the glass.

A hand landed on Starscream’s shoulder and squeezed. He shuddered, knowing the touch before the voice spoke. “The perfect excuse for you to fly. You’ll have little seekers to teach the art to.” Prime squeezed his shoulder again, patting it, then pulling away. “Congratulations. Seekers have always been rare for our people.”

Starscream turned, but Prime was already at the door. “I’ll be by for your reports later, Ratchet.”

“I know, they all want a piece of you now that you’re back,” Ratchet chuckled. “Just don’t forget us. Me and Starscream want our turn too.”

Prime flashed a smile at them both and nodded. “I’ll be back later.”

The door shut.

“Oh you got it bad.”

Starscream’s optics snapped over to the snickering medic. “What?”

Ratchet was practically giggling as he began digging out his tool and supplies. “You got it so bad you don’t even know you’ve got it.”

“That makes no sense! I was just surprised.” …by the heat that rushed his circuits when he realized Prime was touching him. “On top of the shock of seeing seekerlings! Twins at that! Have you ever heard of twin seekers?”

Starscream was given a sly look. “No, I haven’t. But then I figure, why not. Only you, Starscream. A carrier. Of twins. And now we see they’re going to be seekers. Only you. And nice try, but I’m not finished laughing at you. You like to tease me about Prowl, but then you go all glossy optics, and hopeful pout, the _instant_ you hear Optimus’ voice.” Ratchet did giggle this time. “You do realize that if you want him, you’re going to have to jump him. After that mix-up of yours, he’s never going to make the first move.”

Sighing, Starscream propped his head in his hand. “You’re delusional. Besides, he _did_ do that touching thing of his.”

Ratchet laughed. “Yeah, but you didn’t see his face when he realized he was touching you.”

“You’re slagging obnoxious.” Starscream twisted back around on the stool, and folded his arms on the counter.

“Coming from you that must be something.”

“When’s your next date with Prowl?”

“That’s not going to get to me. Not after what I just saw.”

“Maybe, but you haven’t seen how he flushes hot when I tease him about wanting you.”

There was a clang as tool met countertop. “You do not!”

Starscream settled his chin on his arms and focused on the little wing-buds of his creations. “You know I do. He has such a pale face too. Lights right up to bright pink, and all it takes is mentioning your optics following him out of the room. Or trailing over those pretty doorwings of his.”

“Prowl does not blush. I’ve known him since just after the war began, and I have never once seen him blush.”

Starscream turned his face enough for Ratchet to see his smirk. “I bet he blushes up so pretty when getting ‘faced. You know it’s always those quiet ones that are wild in the berth.”

Ratchet smirked right back. “You let me know if Optimus is the exception to that rule, hm?”

Starscream turned back to his creations, ignoring Ratchet’s triumphant snickering, and let his thoughts roam.

~

Optimus Prime did not return when he said he would. Ratchet teased Starscream just before Red Alert arrived, saying that he would track his glorious leader down, and send him posthaste to yon twitchy seeker’s side.

Ratchet was out the door before Starscream managed to wrestle a few rags from a drawer to throw at the medic.

When he arrived, Red Alert glared around, huffed to realize the room was empty of all but seekers, and sat on the spare stool. He held a datapad closer to his face than necessary, and read silently. Starscream downed the last of his energon and climbed on the berth, intent on ignoring the other mech right back tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hatchling Twins by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7263340/chapters/16491442)


	5. Part Four

Starscream was still curled on his left side when he woke. Something was different. Opening his optics, he spotted the change instantly. The lights were at only ten percent, and Prime sat on the stool beside the hatchlings. He was watching them squirm and wriggle with dimmed optics.

Starscream sat up and glanced around to be sure they were alone. Prime must have dismissed Red Alert.

“You should be resting,” Prime murmured, sitting up straight and facing Starscream.

“You didn’t come back.” Starscream winced inwardly, hoping the words did not sound as whiny to Prime as they did to him.

Prime nodded. “I apologize. Ratchet had told me you wanted to discuss your situation with me, but there were other matters that required my attention.”

“I was a leader for a while. I should remember better what it’s like.”

“Still. My other duties may be more critical, but your situation is important.”

Starscream grinned. “Diplomat,” he accused.

Prime gave a soft, surprised laugh and rubbed his face. “It’s been a long three weeks. We had a difficult time ending a war between two factions. The humans have dozens of factions. And though the ones at this meeting have peace agreements between them, they are all at odds and out to serve themselves.”

Sliding off the berth, Starscream walked closer to Prime, nonchalantly leaning over and gazing at his creations. “I got the sense these particular aliens are more like us than we want to admit.”

Prime nodded. “They are. And they are not bad at all. But every mech on this planet is older than their entire species. I brought our war here, and yet they’ve agreed to let us call this planet home now. We will become our own nation, in exchange for technological advancements.”

“Weapons.”

“Weapons,” Prime agreed, leaning back to the side to rest his elbow on the counter, chin in his hand. “It’s what they all want, and what they are most certainly not going to get. I _finally_ got that point across by telling them that what we gave to one faction, would be given to all factions. Including the ones they are at war with. Earth is the home planet of all humans. We cannot in good conscience give something to only a few of those humans, and not others.”

Starscream nodded in understanding. “I worked a few days with your science team. They have good ideas and it certainly won’t be hard to improve on what the humans have now. I could do more good in the main lab where _all_ the information is available, rather than just what they think is viable and bring in here.”

“It is about time you became visible to the humans of this base.” Prime shifted his gaze from the hatchlings to Starscream. “I need your word, your spoken agreement that you will not disclose your true identity. You will never harm a human. You will never _start_ a fight with any of the residents of this base. And I do mean verbal baiting to draw someone into a fight as well. And once we manage to come up with something the humans will believe about the hatchlings, you will not say or hint at them being anything other than what I say they are.”

Starscream stood, laid his hand over his spark, and bowed from the waist. “I swear it, my lord.” He waited for Prime’s nod, and then bent back over to lean on the counter again. “I get it. I really do. They aren’t ready to know all the truths of the universe yet.”

Prime chuckled. “No one knows all the truths.”

“Uh huh. My point is I understand why you’re going about things the way you are. Ratchet’s mentioned some things to me. I’m sure Red Alert would glitch if he knew I knew the plans for this island to eventually become a Cybertronian only city. Or that the Ark was in orbit.”

“There will likely always be some sort of human presence on this island. And Red Alert is a good mech, good at his job.”

Starscream snerked.

“He cares about every mech here. You, and even the humans, are a threat to his friends, mechs he’s served with for millennia.” Prime gave Starscream a brief grin. “Try not to fry his circuits. If Ratchet has to repair and reboot Red’s logic processors, you won’t find me standing between you and an irate medic.”

“Duly noted. Now. When can I get out of here? Start being visible to the humans?”

Prime sighed. “First. How long until the hatchlings are due to emerge?”

“About three more weeks. Give or take a few days. The average in the hatchery was three decacycles.”

“Give me a week more. We’ll begin mentioning to the humans that it looks like you will be up and about soon. I need you to act this out a bit. Stay close to the medbay. You asked to work in the labs? Let’s do that. Then we’ll slowly expand your boundaries based on how everyone reacts.”

Starscream nodded. “I have a simple solution for the hatchlings. No human has seen them yet so we can make up almost anything. I’ll stay close to here as you said, and also mention that the two stasis bound sparklings I rescued are finally starting to progress, how I don’t like leaving them for long. Have Ratchet back me up.” Prime’s mouth twisted in a slight grimace. “They’re infants, Prime. There is no way an organic species that bears live young the way the humans do, is not going to recognize the fact that my creations are children. But if we say they were stasis locked, and that I was as well, then we can also say they were sparked before the Allspark was ejected. In fact, we can’t know for sure, we’re only guessing. I rescued them. Found them. We don’t really know their origins.”

“That could work. I’ll run it by my officers.” Starscream could feel Prime’s gaze on him and suppressed the urge to fidget. “Was there anything else? You really should rest.”

Well, he was not going to get a better opening than that.

Starscream stood. “Actually, yes. There is one more thing.” He stepped forward in a fast move, straddling Prime’s thighs and holding the larger mech’s shoulders for balance.

“Starscream!” Prime’s hands landed on Starscream’s waist, thumbs digging in at the front, trying to gently hold him back.

“You will shut up and listen to me.” That earned him a raised optic ridge. Starscream grinned and leaned his face forward, following Prime’s retreat until the other mech’s helm was stopped by the wall.

“I don’t-“

“This is not gratitude,” Starscream said, cutting Prime off. “This is not payment.” He pressed closer, chest plates sliding against Prime’s, faces almost touching. Starscream smiled because he was not being pushed away, and there was no doubt that Prime was strong enough to dump him to the floor on his aft. “This is not obligation. I was going to apologize for misunderstanding before, but I’m not sorry. If you hadn’t reacted so strongly, so negatively, to my willingness to be your breeder, it would have taken me vorn, millennia, to have concluded you honestly meant it.”

Prime remained silent and still, but his respirations were cycling just a little faster.

“I want this for a slew of lovely, sappy reasons. At the top of the list is that, and this is a farking miracle, I feel safe around you. I missed your slagging touch, and this calm… presence you have.” Starscream stopped. His voice had taken on a self-disgusted sneer, and he knew it was not an attractive sound. He sighed and started again. “I trust you. Do you have any idea how rare that is? I want this, I want you, because I _know_ you aren’t going to hurt me.”

“Are you sure?”

Starscream snorted. “You owe me nothing, Prime. And I don’t interface as a way of saying ‘thank you’.”

“Neither do I.”

“If you don’t want me, tell me no, and I won’t-“

Prime’s mouth slammed down on Starscream’s. Then they were moving, and Starscream landed flat on his back on the berth, Prime climbing up over him, tongue stroking down into the possessive kiss.

Starscream gasped and clung tight to wide shoulders.

Lips traced over his jaw and Starscream shivered as the hands at his waist shoved beneath his back and fingers dug into wing hinges. “Ah!”

“Tell me where. Tell me what you want,” Prime murmured in his audial. “Tell me how you want this.”

Starscream writhed, working his fingers beneath plating and into transformation seams, seeking out anything that might be sensitive. “Your hands. Your mouth. All over me. Nothing else. Just that.”

A dark chuckle. “Just that?” Teeth scraped over neck cables, and Starscream arched and gasped. “Hands and mouth all over you?” Prime leaned up, optics a deep glowing blue. He purred, then swept back down to claim Starscream’s mouth again.

His circuits tingled, pleasure flowing along the path of Prime’s hands and mouth. Heat quickly swelled where their bodies touched and slid against each other. It was too hot, too much, too fast.

And he had Optimus Prime moaning low and aching against his neck.

Starscream worked his hands in under Prime’s chest armor, fingers tweaking lines and wires that led to his spark chamber. Prime moaned again, rumbling and deep, he arched, body stiffening, hands clamping hard to Starscream’s wings. The pressure on finely tuned sensors catapulted Starscream into overload. He bucked and writhed, head tossing, mouth open in a silent scream as the power surged through his systems in waves.

Prime slumped over him for a moment, and Starscream nuzzled into his neck.

“So it’s true about seeker wings?” Prime purred. He knelt up and pulled Starscream up enough to shift them both to their sides.

Starscream smiled, flicking his wings into a comfortable position behind him, and snuggled into the warm chest plates. “Only when I’m charged up. Flight wouldn’t be possible if every brush of air pushed me to overload.”

“Mmm.” Prime shifted a little, laying his head over Starscream’s and holding the seeker close.

“Cuddler, huh?”

Prime chuckled, fingers tracing idle lines on Starscream’s back between his wings. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I don’t get much time for interfacing, or even just being close to someone. They expect a certain façade from me. Howling in overload isn’t a part of that.”

“Well you must’ve gotten practice in sometime.”

“Some.” A smile, and lips caressed Starscream’s helm, fingers moving with a little more purpose. “It has been a while though.”

“It has. And _this_ may come as a surprise to you, but I am careful about who I chose for a lover. I didn’t really associate with the most trustworthy mechs.”

“You don’t say?”

Starscream murmured wordlessly, and pressed into the touch grazing his side.

“So… You say you trust me?”

Starscream frowned up at Prime. “People usually ask things like that before they break the trust they’re asking if they have.”

Prime laughed and hugged Starscream close, when he spoke his tone was soft. “No. That you trust me is amazing, and all the more valuable because I know you do not give it lightly. I have no intention of violating your trust.” His smile became mischievous. “I was wondering if you would let me show you something I’ve recently learned.”

Curiosity piqued, but Starscream was still hesitant. “What have you learned?”

“Nothing in my knowledge or Ratchet’s suggests the conception should hurt.”

Starscream’s optics shot wide.

“No! No, no. I don’t want to attempt that. Even if you were fully recovered, I wouldn’t suggest it. I won’t use you like that. Not ever.” Prime paused for a moment, hold loose, if Starscream wanted to pull away.

He took a moment, letting the momentary panic and thoughts of betrayal fade. “Go on,” Starscream said.

“It shouldn’t hurt. I have no doubt The Fallen just did whatever he pleased to get the end result, but I was curious, so experimented a bit. On myself, that is. If you’re willing to let me, I’ll show you.”

Starscream stared at Prime, mind racing. “You experimented on yourself. Meaning what, precisely?”

“Meaning I managed to find the commands to unlatch my own panel and,” Prime gave a one armed shrug, “experimented.”

Starscream let a slow smile curl across his mouth. “You mean self service!” He laughed. “I wonder what your Autobots would think of that.”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t going to ask for a volunteer in case it did turn out painful.”

“So I’m assuming it wasn’t?” Starscream was still snickering, and settled back in against Prime. The images in his mind chased away the last of his fear that Prime was going to betray him after all. Then he really started picturing _Prime_ trying to overload himself. Laughter died and his vents hitched.

“There were seals. Your port seal at least would have to be broken, since you conceived. But even that wasn’t too terrible. Port was a bit worse than the spike, but that might have been because I wasn’t prepared for something to hurt when I was feeling that good.”

Starscream’s optic ridge popped up.

“It felt good,” Prime assured.

“Uh huh.”

Prime sighed, but was wearing a slight smile still. “And this is why I want to show you. I can tell you it’s not meant to hurt. I could let you touch me, in fact you’re welcome to if you’d like. But you’ll never believe it shouldn’t hurt _you_ if you don’t feel it for yourself.” Prime’s expression had gone serious. “Tell me no, Star, and I won’t ever bring it up again. Tell me to wait, if that’s what you prefer, and I will until you’re ready and come to me. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want to help, if I can.”

Starscream tucked his head under Prime’s chin and let his processors mull it over. He had been completely willing to bear more sparklings, earn his keep as it were, even if he did resent being nothing more than a breeder.

The fact Prime did not want to just use him, did not change Starscream’s feelings that he _should_ conceive again. And he did want to. Not right away, but eventually. He could do _something_ for their species. There had been four of them The Fallen had used. More Autobots could come that might also have the ability.

It was hope for their people.

The only thing he feared was how badly it had hurt. How he had been damaged to the point of being unable to walk after the first half dozen or so times.

Prime’s hand caressed in slow, comforting strokes along Starscream’s back.

“No spike?”

Prime tipped Starscream’s chin up and smiled. “Same rules as before. Hands and mouth only.”

“Mouth?” Starscream repeated, surprised. “You’re more flexible than you look.”

“Hardly. But I can be creative.” Prime’s smile became predatory.

Starscream felt heat trip through his systems. “Ok,” he said in a weak voice. Then stronger. “No spike. No spark. No matter what I say after now. Nothing but your mouth.”

Prime climbed off the berth and hooked the stool with his foot, dragging it to the foot of the berth. He was still smiling as he caught Starscream’s thighs in his hands and pulled the seeker down until his aft was resting right on the edge of the berth. “No spark, no spike.”

“I’m trusting you, Prime.”

Serious in an instant, Prime sat and pressed a kiss to Starscream’s inner thigh. “One word. You say stop, and it ends. No questions, no arguments, no resentment from me. Just say stop.”

Starscream nodded, and laid back, letting his legs drape over Prime’s shoulders.

“And really. You can call me Optimus.” Amusement in his voice. “Unless you have an authority kink?”

Starscream snickered, squirming a bit as… Optimus’ tongue slipped along armor edges. “No. I definitely do _not_ have an authority kink. Ah!”

Prime chuckled and pulled Starscream’s knee out further, widening the gap where thigh met body, and exposing the sensitive cabling there a bit more. His other hand splayed wide and stroked up and down the outside of Starscream’s other leg, fingers dipping in here and there. Starscream shifted his hips, rolling them to push harder against Optimus’ mouth. A deep purr vibrated straight up to his spark and he gasped.

Optimus moved to Starscream’s other leg, starting with the back of his knee, fingers and tongue and lips all working back up to his hip. Starscream moaned, surprised by the flash of fire that shot from the panel Prime was trailing sucking kisses over.

“Take your time,” Optimus rumbled, licking along the edges. “It’s up to you to open it.”

Starscream whimpered, desire flaring to lust, then gasped and lay still when the panel retracted.

Optimus kissed the inside of a knee. “Are you alright? I’ll stop.”

He cycled a few respirations, and forced himself to relax. “Keep going,” Starscream whispered. “I’m.” He paused. Optimus merely laid his cheek against Starscream’s leg, optics locked on the seeker’s. “I’m just flashing back on how much it hurt.”

“If it does, tell me and I’ll stop instantly. Tell me even if you just change your mind.”

Starscream nodded.

Prime started all over, and by the time he returned to Starscream’s port, the seeker was panting, cooling vents running.

“This,” Optimus murmured, “is your spike housing.” Starscream shuddered, and liquid pleasure raced out from the spot Prime licked. “The seal’s still intact. If you do extend it, there will be a short sharp pinch-like pain. It fades pretty fast. This…” A long, slow caress swept lower. Starscream cried out, hips jerking. “…is your port. Did that hurt?”

“Idiot,” Starscream moaned and the touch was repeated. Prime’s low chuckle sent waves of heat up into Starscream’s core. “Don’t stop. Keep going.” He bucked again as that wicked tongue slipped along his port’s edge then dipped in and out, in shallow, slow thrusts. “Oh, Primus!”

Optimus slowly increased his pace, pressing deeper, sucking kisses more intense, thrusting his tongue in faster. Starscream arched, hips rolling and bucking up for more. One hand shot down, clenching tight on Prime’s wrist where he held Starscream’s legs apart. The other reached down, stroked the finials on Prime’s helm, then clutched tight, holding Optimus there.

“Optimus! _Optimus_!”

Prime moaned, rumbling and deep, and Starscream’s world splintered into starbursts of light and the echoes of his own ecstatic sobs.

Then Optimus was climbing over him, body sliding against over-sensitized plating, hand’s digging in and stroking hard out over Starscream’s wings.

“Taste so sweet,” Optimus purred and covered Starscream’s mouth with his own.

With a shout, Starscream overloaded again, body winding and Optimus pressing him down into the padding of the berth.

Warm lips and a soft purr caressed his audial as Starscream sank into the velvet darkness.

~

When he woke, Starscream found himself cradled sideways on Optimus’ lap, the other mech’s arms warm and secure around him. They were back where they’d started, and Starscream watched the sleeping hatchlings for a moment.

“How are you feeling?”

Starscream purred and burrowed in closer to the warm chest plates. “Gotta love those surprise overloads.”

Prime chuckled. “I suppose I did alright if a single overload wasn’t enough to clear the charge from your systems.”

He tipped his head back and leaned up enough to press a kiss to Optimus’ chin. “I believe you. It does feel good.”

Optimus laughed, that free, honest one Starscream had heard in the washracks. “Good. However, if you forget, or find yourself doubting, let me know, and I’ll help remind you.”

Starscream grinned and shifted. It was then he caught the low hum of Prime’s cooling vents running. He slid off Optimus’ lap and tapped a finger in the center of over-warm chestplates. “Do you trust me?”

Blue optics shaded darker and Prime’s clamps clicked as they unlocked, plating sliding back and bathing Starscream’s face in spark light. He reached forward, but Optimus caught his hand.

“Oh please. You aren’t still on that me feeling beholden slag, are you?”

Prime grinned. “Not anymore.”

Starscream smirked and traced his fingers over lines, circuits, and wires. Optimus’ head fell back with a moan, optics shuttering. “Same rules,” Starscream purred, then bent close and sucked on the edge of Prime’s spark crystal. A sharp cry echoed in the small room.

“Primus, Star! Yes!”

Starscream worked his hands into all the little spots he had found the first time, lips still trailing over the throbbing spark. There was a flare, and then Optimus was squeezing Starscream’s shoulders, his back bowed as his spark strobed in overload.

“Uuhhhhnnnn…”

The low moan sent a shiver down Starscream’s back. Starscream placed one last kiss to the crystal and pulled away. Armor shifted back into place, and he was being pulled into Optimus’ arms, and held tight as the other mech trembled in aftershocks. Little kisses fell on Starscream’s helm and he smiled.

“Come lay with me,” Starscream murmured.

In answer, Prime simply stood up and carried Starscream back to the berth, settling them both on their sides.

“Thank you,” Optimus whispered.

Starscream purred, then smiled, realizing Prime was already recharging. With one last glance at his creations, he curled close, and sank into recharge as well.

~ | ~

Starscream’s optics opened, only to focus on bright red armor. He grinned, stretching and rubbing himself against his berth partner. Prime growled low, his arms tightening around Starscream’s back. Starscream purred and let his optics fall shut as warm lips found his own. This kiss was different from the frantic, lust-filled ones of the previous night. Optimus’ mouth moved over Starscream’s in a languid caress, lips parting and tongue stroking out. His head tipped, and a heavy frame leaned harder into Starscream, Prime’s growl, smoothing out into a hungry moan. Starscream dragged a leg up-

“As… inspiring… as the first show was, you, Optimus, don’t have time for a second. That video conference with England’s Prime Minister is due to begin in two breems.”

They broke apart with startled gasps. Starscream snickered as Prime practically flew off the berth. He rolled to his front and stretched, lazy and slow, purring as he kept his optics on Ratchet and fanned his wings. “First show, hm?”

“Primus,” Optimus gasped.

“Forgot about the camera, huh?” Ratchet snickered.

“Camera? Why Ratchet, I had no idea you were such a voyeur!” 

Ratchet cracked a grin. “Yes. Camera. Fortunately for you two, it’s a secure feed for me only.” He paused, considering. “Of course Red Alert _did_ set it up and knowing him…” He trailed off, smiling widely at Optimus.

“Oh, Primus.”

Starscream snickered and sat up, leaning over far enough to grab Prime and drag him back for another kiss. He watched as blue optics flickered, then closed. But Prime pulled back after just a short brush of lips. “I’ll return later if I can.”

“Exhibitionist,” Ratchet laughed.

“What? Oh! No, I didn’t mean for…” Prime visibly forced himself to stop sputtering, and with a cloak of formal calm said, “I’m going now.” And left.

Starscream grinned and twisted around to face Ratchet. “So…” Ratchet just shook his head and turned away, gathering the day’s supplies. “Oh don’t go all shy on me now, Ratch. Pits, you could have joined in.”

An optic ridge hiked up as Ratchet turned to face him, but he was still smiling.

“Oh wait,” Starscream said, voice low and coy. “You said inspiring. Did you finally jump Prowl?”

It was Starscream’s turn to raise optic ridges, as Ratchet spun right around and ignored him. “You did!” he chortled.

“I did not,” Ratchet said, frame as stiff as his voice.

Slipping off the berth, Starscream stepped behind Ratchet and leaned his hands on the counter to either side of the medic, as close as he could be without actually touching. “Come now, Ratchet. You can be honest with me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Mmhmm…” Starscream grazed his nose in a feather light touch over Ratchet’s audial. “Alone? Is that why you didn’t turn the feed off?”

“Knock it off, Starscream.” But Ratchet did nothing to move him or get away.

“I’m not shy you know. Sure I might not have let Prime at my port had you been there but-“

“Prime wouldn’t have stayed,” Ratchet interrupted. He turned within the circle of Starscream’s arms and smirked. “He’s rather private about interfacing. And for as pretty as you are, I don’t actually want you.”

Starscream smirked right back. “That’s right. You want Prowl.” The smile dropped off Ratchet’s face. Starscream sighed and moved away. “I know he hasn’t turned you down, because he doesn’t even know you want him. I know he wants you. So what the frag are you waiting for?”

“But… I thought you told him? You said-“

“I said I tease him about wanting you, about how you watch him, but he doesn’t believe it! Primus!” Starscream threw his hands in the air and stomped over to the hatchlings. “Is this an Autobot thing?” he asked suddenly. “Because if a Decepticon wants to ‘face, he’s pretty clear about it.”

Ratchet sighed. “No. Interfacing is no bigger deal to us, than you, I don’t think.” He shrugged. “If nothing else it’s a great way to de-stress. But…”

Starscream’s optics went wide. “Oh frag! You love him!” He was instantly back by the medic’s side, finger pointing accusingly.

“What do ‘Cons know about love?” Ratchet snarled and smacked Starscream’s hand away. “And I don’t. Not like that.”

“But you want to,” Starscream said. “So what’s the big deal?”

Ratchet sighed, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back against the counter. He was silent long enough for Starscream to begin to get impatient. “You’re not the only carrier,” he finally said.

Starscream jerked, mouth dropping open. “Prowl?”

“Me.”

Blinking, room reeling, Starscream staggered back to his berth. “I’m not the only one,” he whispered. He was dizzy with relief. Not _all_ the responsibility would be on him. “Does Prime know?”

“Not yet. But he will. He asked me to check everyone, see who might be so they can be informed. He doesn’t want to tell everybody. Just those that can conceive. The choice will be left up to the individual if or when he carries.”

Starscream let the information process. “Are there others? Besides us?” He waited, and finally Ratchet gave a hesitant nod. “And you found out during the check-ups.” It was a statement, but Ratchet nodded again. Starscream inhaled deep and slow, letting the respiration rush out. He was still reeling. “And is that why you had a mirror on hand?”

“No,” Ratchet whispered. “No, I discovered it while still in the academy. One of our assignments was an in depth exploration of our own crystals. So we could be more certain of our touch when working on a patient. I found the valve. Looked up the information. Never breathed a word of it.”

“Our race is dying, and you didn’t think you should mention it to at least your Prime?”

Ratchet pushed away from the counter, pacing the short path to the opposite wall, then back, then again. “It’s not that easy! I was thrilled to learn that I could carry. That, one day, when I was settled, had a good practice going, I would be able to conceive instead of have to deal with waiting for approval. It shouldn’t have been terribly hard to find someone, another medic, willing to assist me. But then the war started. I’ll inform Prime of my ability when I tell him of the others.” 

Starscream sighed. “All right. But why should this matter with Prowl. Is he disgusted by it? He doesn’t act that way with me. In fact, most nights he’s here, I wake to see him watching the hatchlings. We’ve spoken of it, what I’m allowed to tell, and he seems more curious than anything else. You could do far worse than Prowl for a partner.”

Ratchet continued to pace, shaking his head, arms crossed tight over his chest, and glaring at the floor. “I can’t.”

“Even assuming he didn’t want to help in the conception, surely he wouldn’t forbid it?”

There was a harsh, almost bitter laugh. “I’ll kill you if you leak any of this conversation to anyone.” Ratchet pinned Starscream with a glare, and this once, the seeker was sure it wasn’t an idle threat. “I told you we aren’t the only ones.”

“And this would be good, wouldn’t it?”

“Prowl’s one too.”

Starscream stared at the medic for a moment. “Ok. And that matters because…?”

Ratchet huffed and went back to pacing, stomping. “Two carriers shouldn’t be together!”

“You said all mechs have spikes as well as ports. Granted I didn’t try to test that last night, but I believe it.”

“Argh! Look, just because we wouldn’t suffer the same dangers of inbreeding as most organic creatures, the more of us that are willing to create with a diverse selection of mechs, the better off we’ll be. If I create only with Prowl, or he with me, then even with your two hatchlings, that’s a very limited selection of traits to hand down!” Ratchet stopped pacing a moment and pointed a finger at Starscream. “And _that_ is a damned assumption too! There’s no promise that _any_ of our creations would be capable of carrying!”

Starscream watched as Ratchet determinedly tried to wear a path in the floor for a few moments. “Why would you or Prowl, or any of us breeders, restrict ourselves to one mech to create with?”

Ratchet practically stumbled to a halt and stared at him.

“It is possible to care about one person, and still share pleasure with others.”

“What about Optimus?” Ratchet asked, genuine confusion coloring his tone.

Starscream snorted. “Oh the pleasure was mind-bending, but I’m not in love with him! And you’re an idiot if you think he’s got anything more than attraction and fascination for me.”

Ratchet sank back against the counter. “But you let him-“

“I trust him,” Starscream said. “As foolish as it is, he’s really not going to force me, or anyone, into breeding for him. He’s not going to hurt me. I don’t even trust Skyfire that much anymore. I don’t trust _you_ that much.”

“We should bear sparklings. He’ll never make it an order though. He’d never even consider asking because he knows when he asks for something, it happens. He could never abuse his power like that.” Ratchet shook his head. “How can you even consider it after all you’ve been through?”

Starscream shrugged, genuinely not concerned anymore with his past. “Prime won’t hurt me. He won’t allow me to be hurt. He wouldn’t let any breeder-“

“Primus! Carrier! ‘Breeder’ sounds so derogatory!”

Chuckling, Starscream began again. “Whatever. Call it what it is. Prime wouldn’t allow any _carrier_ to be used or harmed. The pain was what I feared.” At Ratchet’s incredulous stare, he waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, I know. I was raped repeatedly, I’m over it. Mostly. My point is I know Prime won’t do that. And I’ve also had two Terran years to get used to all this. I didn’t try to escape The Fallen for the same reason I was willing to submit to Prime before he ran out of here.”

“I think you made him physically ill,” Ratchet murmured. “I mean I know it was shock. Optimus has been shocked plenty of times though. But the idea of doing to you what The Fallen did…”

Well, now that did make Starscream feel a little contrite. He pushed it aside. “Still. I was willing. Completely willing, for the sake of our race, to subject myself to a life of carrying. It would still be better here than with the Decepticons.”

“Prime will never ask that of us.”

Starscream grinned. “Are you willing?”

“Better than facing extinction,” Ratchet muttered and sighed.

“How many of us are there?”

Ratchet hesitated, staring intently at Starscream. Then. “Six. But Optimus doesn’t want the others to know each other. You shouldn’t even know! Primus, what am I doing?” He covered his face with his hands and massaged his fingers over his forehead.

“We should all meet. Discuss this. We’re both willing. Who says the others won’t be?”

“If even one isn’t-“

“Then we don’t do it,” Starscream said. When Ratchet looked at him with a startled expression, he smirked. “Believe me, I have an understanding of psychology. If all of us but one agreed, then that one would feel he had to. Obligated. Exactly what Prime does not want. He would become bitter… at best. Hateful and dangerous possibly. The only way to do this as any type of breeding program - and you can hate that term all you like but it’s the truth of it - is if we’re all in. If not, then we can copy the humans’ family units. Those of us that want more sparklings, that is.”

Ratchet stared for a moment. “Who the slag _are_ you?” Starscream snickered. “I’m serious. I thought Megatron was sending us his psycho Second in Command, and hey, I’ll even give you points for snark, but you are _not_ Starscream.”

Starscream tried to keep his smile, but knew it faltered around the edges. “Let’s just go with, I’ve had time to rethink my life.”

Ratchet sighed heavily. “Give me a few days to quietly inform the others and arrange a little get together. But not a word, Starscream. Not one, not even to Optimus yet.”

“Agreed.” Starscream paused and glanced around the room. “So where’s the camera? And are you planning on watching again tonight?”

Ratchet pointed up to the corner diagonal across from the hatchlings’ tank. “I can see the whole room from there.” A grin tugged the corners of his mouth up. “And damn did the two of you put on one hell of a show.”

Starscream snickered. “Angle could have been better. I’ll keep that in mind later.”

“I was wrong,” Ratchet laughed. “It’s you that’s the exhibitionist.” He laughed harder when all Starscream did was shrug in a lazy ‘so what’ sort of gesture.


	6. Part Five

“Why is he here?” Starscream asked, pointing at Sunstreaker. “He isn’t one of us.”

Sunstreaker growled. “I go where Sides goes.”

“How is it that Sideswipe is a carrier, but not Sunstreaker?” Prowl asked as he settled back against the counter beside Ratchet.

Ratchet shrugged. “Spark twins are rare, and hardly anything is understood about them. I probably know more about them than any of the scientists that studied twins, just because Sunny and Sides have been in my care so long.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sideswipe said, and hopped up onto the berth next to Starscream, flashing a quick easy smile. “Any kid I pop out will still be part Sunny.”

“Frightening that,” Starscream muttered. He winced as Sunstreaker rapped the back of a wing before pushing him and climbing into place next to Sideswipe.

Jolt and Bluestreak entered then, and took seats on the stools Ratchet gestured to.

“Ok, so I’m totally in,” Bluestreak grinned.

Ratchet shook his head. “This is a huge decision, Blue.”

“And we do not yet have Optimus Prime’s approval,” added Prowl.

Starscream scoffed, “We’ll worry about lobbying Prime later. I’ll talk to him myself.”

Jolt’s head cocked, expression doubtful. “You expect to convince The Prime to allow this? Ever over-confident, Starscream. How?”

“Because I’ve already done this. I _know_ what we’re getting into better than any of you. I can make him see the reason behind allowing, _encouraging_ , a breeding program.”

“Wait,” Ratchet said, hand going up. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. This isn’t a majority rule. We are all or nothing here. If we’re going to ask every other mech in the base to help us conceive, we _all_ have to be completely willing and aware of the risks.” He glanced around at the other mechs. Bluestreak seemed positively giddy. Prowl silent and serious. Sunstreaker had at some point clasped Sideswipe’s hand and the red mech was smiling slightly. Jolt was quiet, expression almost blank.

“What risks?” Sunstreaker asked into the silence. “Because I only know a little of what Screamer here went through, but if he was able to survive however many ‘Cons he spawned, then what risk could there be to any of us now with you monitoring our health?”

“Aww. Ratchet, he’s got all kinds of faith in you,” Starscream snickered. He jammed a finger hard through a seam on Sunstreaker’s thigh. “Do not call me ‘Screamer’, Sunbeam.”

“Enough,” Prowl ordered, before Sunstreaker could retaliate.

Ratchet rubbed his face with both hands and sighed heavily. “In reality, Starscream’s in the least danger. His spark has already proven capable of managing the strain. The biggest danger is in first time carriers. Sometimes the spark just isn’t strong enough.” Ratchet pinned Starscream with a hard look. “However, given the strain you’ve already been through, I am still going to be concerned if you carry again. You aren’t healed yet, your systems aren’t even up to one hundred percent. Conceiving now, so soon after almost deactivating, _could_ kill you.”

Starscream cocked an optic ridge. He had no intention of creating again until he was in peak condition.

“Is there any way to test spark strength?” Prowl asked. “Is there a way to be certain we would survive the creation and birth?”

“I don’t see anyone in this room I’d call weak-sparked,” Sideswipe said. There were nods of agreement all around.

Ratchet shook his head. “I don’t think being block-headed is an indicator.”

Starscream laughed as everyone else stared at the medic in various ranges of surprise and offense. “Says the most block-headed of the lot!”

“Second most, oh Screaming One,” Ratchet shot back with a grin. Starscream’s laughter cut off at the accursed nickname. He crossed his arms and scowled.

Smiling briefly, Prowl asked, “Besides possible death, what else is at risk?”

Ratchet’s grin fell away. “Loss of reproductive capabilities, or death of the hatchling.” Starscream flinched, visibly, and was surprised to feel Sunstreaker’s free hand cover his on the berth for a moment. Ratchet winced, but continued on. “Loss of the ability to merge sparks with another for even pleasure, and then a list of small injuries and damages that can occur. There’s also the risk of not being able to produce the right energon for the hatchling once he’s pod-born.”

“Wait. What do you mean the risk of not being able to produce energon?” Starscream asked. “You have plenty of energon here.”

Ratchet shook his head. “Hatchlings can’t handle full-strength energon. As a carrier you can produce a milder energon. The protocols are-“

“Wait! What?!” Starscream’s voice cracked over a shrill note that left the others grimacing. He felt cold seep through his circuits and lines. “You mean to tell me that _I_ have had the ability to produce energon that would have kept the hatchings alive?” He was shaking and his optics shot over to the tank in the corner. The others could have lived…?

Hand on his shoulder, another cupping his face, thumb brushing gently over his cheek. “Starscream,” Ratchet spoke softly. “No. You were so low on energy, you had no reserves. I sincerely doubt you could have accessed the commands to start the filtering, even if you had known they were there. Primus, that bastard didn’t tell you anything. I don’t even know how he expected to succeed!”

“What about now?” Starscream whispered, optics still looking at the hatchlings.

“Want me to jack in and see? I located mine already, it shouldn’t be too hard to find yours for you.”

Starscream nodded and retracted the medical port cover.

“Primus,” Jolt murmured. “What happened to you, Starscream?”

“The Fallen raped me a few dozen times, all my hatchings but those two there died, most before they ever escaped their pods, and if it weren’t for Ratchet, I’d have deactivated when they were born.”

“And you _want_ to do this again?!” Sideswipe asked. In his periphery, Starscream could see that the red Autobot had leaned forward and was staring at him. He nodded in answer, and did his best not to fight against the invasive feeling of Ratchet virtually thumbing through his programming. In his mind images of the lost hatchlings flashed.

“There it is!” Ratchet said, sounding entirely too relieved for someone who had confidence that the programming had been there all along. “You see this?”

“Yes,” Starscream answered.

“You can test it if you like. Looks like the line adaptations run to your middle fingers.”

Starscream forced himself out of the memories and brushed his face dry. He nodded again, this time to Ratchet directly, and executed the protocols. A new line appeared on his internal view screen and he set the warnings to let him know when the process was complete. Ratchet squeezed his shoulder, disconnecting them and moving back to his previous spot against the counter.

“You really want to do this again?” Jolt asked.

Starscream could feel the heat creeping up in his face, and tried to push aside the embarrassment. Ratchet and he had agreed a realistic view needed to be presented. “Yes. You can’t imagine the pain. If you survive, but the hatchling doesn’t, it’s… It’s agony. Watching them die hurt more than anything The Fallen did to me. At least I know now that the conceptions were only so painful because I was literally raped. I did not consent to merging sparks. I couldn’t dredge up the least desire or interest, even had I known it wouldn’t hurt as much if I did. I tried to be willing.” He shook his head and stared down at his hands, thumbs running over the tips of his middle fingers.

“Look,” Starscream said, and sat up straight, squaring his shoulders and hitching his wings back up from their slump. “I’ve had two years to come to terms with all of that. I wanted it then, and I want it now. I want dozens of little creations under foot. I want there to be hope for our kind. I was completely willing to be Prime’s breeder even when I thought it would be as agonizing as it had been with The Fallen. The fact that my life _won’t_ be at risk here, that my creations will have a chance at a good life instead of being condemned to death before they’re even out of their pods… it would have been worth it. The pain would be worth it.”

Starscream paused and looked each of them in the optics, before settling on Sideswipe’s. “It _is_ worth all the pain. But here, it doesn’t even have to hurt. I’m told breaking seals isn’t all that pleasant, but that’s supposedly a one-time short pain, and easily overridden by pleasure.”

“You’re told?” Bluestreak asked. “Ratchet?” he asked, facing the medic.

Ratchet nodded. “The first time your spike leaves its housing, and the first time your port seal is penetrated, it does hurt a little. But after that it should never hurt again. Starscream’s experiences were, well, amongst other reasons, very painful because he was never given the chance to become aroused. The Fallen took him, and used him, and didn’t have a single care for whether Starscream enjoyed it or not.”

“Sadist slagger probably enjoyed that none of us liked it!” Starscream snarled.

There was silence for a few moments as everyone sank into their own thoughts. It was broken by Bluestreak sitting up straight and smiling brightly. “Well, I’m with Starscream. Even painful, I think havin’ a bunch of little ones around is worth it. And holy Primus!” He giggled. “How many mechs are here? Twenty-eight, without counting those hatchlings? So we each get to have like, twenty-seven! At least! Because, ya know, none of us here are _that_ old. I mean I know you, Ratchet, and Prowl too are a bit older, but we all have plenty more time left to live, especially without the war going. We can have tons of hatchlings!” Bluestreak giggled again. “I am so in!”

Starscream tipped his head to the side and regarded Bluestreak in amusement. “Why, Blue, you little wanton.”

Bluestreak gave him a wicked grin. “So you know what you’re doin’, right Starscream?”

“Sure go for the mech with the pretty wings,” Sideswipe snickered.

“I’m confused,” Jolt said. “You mean we can help each other conceive as well?”

Ratchet nodded. “All mechs have spikes. But just like none of us should feel obligated or coerced into this, we can’t expect that every other mech on the base is going to want to donate his transfluids.” He looked right at Starscream. “And I still think it would be best for carriers to focus on diversity, rather than just spawning off each other.”

Starscream smirked. “I’m going to lock you in a room together.”

“What?!” Prowl’s optics shot wide and he glanced at Ratchet, blushing a bright pink, the energon showing easily through his pale face.

Ratchet glared at Starscream, and refused to look anywhere else. “We also need to consider the fact that there are mechs on this base, and others that may show up, that are in long term relationships.”

“And more likely to be by the time things have settled here for us to get down to breeding,” Starscream said, letting a teasing lilt enter his voice. He could see Prowl’s face darken further even as Ratchet scowled harder. Primus, everyone in the room could guess at their feelings for each other, but the two would probably never act on them without help. Starscream shifted his optics deliberately from Ratchet to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The twins wore wolfish, identical smiles, and nodded simultaneously at Starscream.

“I am going to turn you into a snarky toaster for the humans to use!”

“And I’ll burn all their toast.” Starscream waved a hand carelessly. “Besides, if those in relationships are that possessive of their lovers, yet still willing, then they can be present for the conception too. Nothing wrong with a threesome. And like you said, it’s open participation. Completely voluntary.”

“Um… What do you mean by the time things are settled?” Bluestreak frowned, doorwings twitching in what Starscream interpreted as genuine irritation. “We have to wait?”

“Of course,” Starscream said before Ratchet could speak. “There’s the planetary defense grid to complete. And you know we can’t tell the humans where my hatchlings really came from. How would we explain suddenly having six more in a few months? Prime’s said things are troubled. The humans could very likely want us off the planet if they learned we could reproduce. There are plans to turn this island into a true Cybertronian city, right? Then most humans will be gone. Give it a vorn,” he said. “Believe me. The last thing you want to be doing is bringing a hatchling about, only to watch it get deactivated or stolen by the humans for research.”

Bluestreak’s optics weren’t the only ones to go wide with fear and anger. It was, surprisingly, Prowl who growled. “They’ll never touch a hatchling!” he declared.

“Not while I live,” Starscream agreed. “And really once we’re all content here and have adjusted to life without war, we really will have all the time we need to create. Sparklings won’t _need_ to be conceived one on top of the other like The Fallen did. We can have them every half vorn or even once per vorn. There’s really no rush.”

Silence fell again until Sideswipe asked, “So we’re all in then?”

“This is _not_ a requirement. We’re agreeing to a… breeding program. There’s nothing saying that we _have_ to do it this way. If someone doesn’t want to, then we can easily, as Starscream suggested a few days ago, just mimic the humans’ family units. Just carry for the one we love. You each need to understand that there’s no obligation here.”

“Actually I do feel obligated,” Jolt said. “This is our duty, but it’s a duty I welcome and embrace. We have a chance to continue our species and even if my spark didn’t jump at the prospect of having a few of my own hatchlings, I’d want to do this.”

“Me too,” Bluestreak said. “I mean. I want a family. Can’t you just see how cute they’ll all be? Just look at Starscream’s hatchlings! I love them and they aren’t even mine. I can’t wait to get started!”

“Me too,” Sideswipe said, and Sunstreaker nodded.

Starscream grinned, and let his feet swing a bit where they hung off the berth. “You all know I’m in. I’ll be in every berth that’ll have me once things are as safe as they can be, and those two don’t need my energon anymore.” He gestured at the incubation tank, and added, “Whether any of the rest of you want do it or not.”

“Ratchet?” Prowl asked.

“I know where I stand. What about you?”

Prowl frowned a little. “I always intended to apply for a sparkling, but the war broke out.” He nodded, more to himself than Ratchet. “Yes, I would do this even if I did not feel I should for the sake of our people.”

Ratchet seemed to droop a little, but his voice was firm when he spoke. “I’ve wanted to spark my own creation since Med Academy. I’m in.”

“Primus!” Starscream snapped. Frag subtly or mischievous plots. “The two of you can still have a frelling relationship, even a bond, if you want, and still carry for other mechs! Or are Autobots so narrow in their view of love, that a little physical pleasure with another is unconscionable?!”

Beside him the twins snickered. “Not for us.”

“And I’m still glad for that,” Bluestreak giggled.

Ratchet and Prowl were both flushed a hot pink and not looking at each other. Starscream huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He really might see about locking them in a room together. Or maybe in a room with him and the twins? If the three of them together couldn’t inspire Ratchet and Prowl into taking out their lust on each other, then maybe it really was hopeless. Then he glanced at Bluestreak. Pretty thing. Young. Plainly unafraid of chasing his overloads. Maybe he had a few options available.

“So we’re in agreement?” Starscream finally asked. There were nods all around. “Good, I’ll inform Prime when I see him.”

“Why you again?” Sideswipe asked. But Ratchet just waved him off with a short “Let him,” then after strict orders that this be kept secret until further notice, the medic shooed all but Starscream out of the room.

The full-power glare he was given didn’t even dent Starscream’s amusement. “And you didn’t think they’d be just as willing as we are,” he said.

Suddenly, Ratchet’s face smoothed out and a smile curled his mouth up. “I’ll get you for that little stunt. When you least expect it. Long after you’ve forgotten. I’ll get you.”

Starscream snerked and hopped down from the berth, dragging a stool over to his hatchlings. “Come back and repeat that threat after you’ve ‘faced him through the berth.”

He caught the cleaning cloth without even looking this time.

~ | ~

“Aren’t your officers a little suspicious as to why you keep taking over their shifts watching me?”

Prime turned to face Starscream with a self-conscious smile. “I doubt it.”

Starscream felt one optic ridge pop up. “Oh?” he said, and slid off the berth, pacing slowly over to Prime. “You think they all know what we’re doing?” He swung one leg over the Autobot’s lap, and settled himself on Prime’s thighs. “I’m inclined to disagree based on the fact that I’m still functioning.”

Prime’s hands slipped around Starscream’s waist, fingers kneading and thumbs gently petting. “Why would they deactivate you for sharing pleasure with me?”

“Gee, Prime, I don’t know. Maybe because I have something over you now?”

“And what’s that?” Prime blinked, but then continued before Starscream could answer. “Decepticon,” he answered himself, and chuckled. “Even if any of them are worried you may be trying to wend your way into my spark for the favors it could earn you, they know me better than that. I don’t often interface with Autobots because too many of them, especially the younger ones, need me more as a role model than lover.”

“But I don’t need a role model?” Starscream asked, curious now of what motivated Prime in regards to their physical relationship.

Prime snorted. “I don’t for an instant think you ever have, or ever will see me through the same awed optics as my own troops. I don’t need to put on the same… show for you.”

Starscream smirked. “So it’s with the evil little Decepticon that you can actually relax and be yourself? Interesting, Prime. Now stop teasing your way up to my hinges, we have business to discuss first.”

Optics dimmed, and Prime managed his own little smirk, purring, “Do we?” His fingers grazed teasingly over Starscream’s left wing hinge.

“Knock it off,” Starscream huffed, and pushed Prime’s arm, dislodging those distracting fingers. “You have six mechs, myself included, that are capable of carrying, and we fully intend to do so.”

Prime’s hand stilled where he had been lifting it back to continue his teasing touches. Optics wide and mouth dropped open in shock, the Autobot just stared silently for a full minute.

“Need a force reboot?”

“No… I just… Six?” Prime blinked and his hands settled on Starscream’s waist, all thoughts of interfacing apparently gone for now.

“Six. Five of your Autobots and me.”

“Who? And why are you telling me instead of Ratchet?”

“Prowl, Bluestreak, Jolt, Sideswipe, and none other than Ratchet himself,” Starscream answered, grinning a little as the shell-shocked expression intensified on Prime’s face. “And I’m telling you because your mechs know that I’m willing to argue you around to seeing our point of view.”

“Ratchet? Prowl?” Prime blinked again, and slouched back against the wall. “Primus! Sideswipe?!”

Starscream laughed, already planning out how to tell Sideswipe his leader’s reaction to the news. “It’ll get interesting around here with him breeding.”

That shook Prime out of his shock and he sat up straight. “You say that like you have some plan laid out already.”

“Because we do.” Starscream held up a hand to stop the coming argument. “We all discussed it. We all are more than willing to carry as many sparklings as we can manage with, of course, the transfluid and spark donation from any other willing mech. This is hope for our people, and we all want it. We would all do it even without the pressing need.”

“But not as many as you’re suggesting!”

“Maybe not. But that doesn’t really matter because the situation _does_ exist, and there’re six of us willing to do as much as we can about it. And we’re all determined. We want this.”

“After all you’ve been though, Star, I don’t think creating again would be safe. Maybe the others. Maybe. I’ll think about it, but I really don’t know that I want you carrying again.”

Starscream turned his face to the side to look at the hatchlings, and forced back the sudden anger, keeping his voice level and calm. “If these two live, then the pain was worth it. I’d live it all again if it meant their survival.” He faced Prime again. “And you have no more right to tell me I can’t do this, than you have to order me to do it.”

Prime’s face went slack in shock.

“It’s my choice, isn’t it? Besides, I don’t mean _now_. None of us do. Ratchet says from what he learned hatchlings are dependent on the milder energon for something like a quarter vorn. Roughly. I know I’m not healed yet, and I have no intention of risking my life needlessly. But once I am in top condition, these two are older and less dependent, there’s no reason I shouldn’t bear more sparklings. And there’s really too much work to be done for the others to begin right away either.”

Prime was still reeling, and his usually smooth voice was almost rough. “But you were _used_ so… so harshly!”

“And as I keep saying,” Starscream snapped, patience at an end. “I wanted it! I wanted those hatchlings! I’d have taken them and raised them and _loved_ every one of them! I _do_ love them!” He shoved his way off Prime’s lap, and angrily swiped at the tears. “Primus! I am so _sick_ of crying!” He rounded on Prime and stabbed a finger at the Autobot. “I don’t, _none of us_ , need your permission to conceive! And if you forbid it, you-“

Starscream cut himself off as Prime stood. He flinched back, then cursed the ingrained response. Strong arms wrapped around his waist as Prime held him close, a low purr rumbling from his large chest.

“You’re right,” Prime murmured, hands running in soothing circles over Starscream’s back and wings. “You’re right,” he repeated in a whisper. “But I know the risks, and I will worry for each of you, every time.”

“That’s because you’re a big soft-sparked Autobot sap.”

A deep, soft chuckle. “That I am.”

Starscream sighed and snuggled closer, laying his head better against Prime’s broad shoulder, and opening his optics to stare at the hatchlings in their tank. They were so much bigger now. They slept a lot, but when they were active, he actually worried they would hurt each other. They were so, so much stronger than even his first creation. They might even be bigger too despite having two weeks left to go. It was difficult to tell though with how curled up and squished together they were inside the pod. There wasn’t much room left. Ratchet assured Starscream that they would be fine, but he still worried.

“Maybe I understand worrying a little better now than I used to, though,” Starscream whispered.

Prime’s head turned, his cheek coming to rest on top of Starscream’s helm, as he too watched the hatchlings. “I imagine you do.” They were silent for a few moments, nothing but the quiet hum of the tank sounding in the room. Then. “Have you thought of what you will name them?”

Starscream leaned back and stared up at Prime. “Sideswipe asked that some time ago. Will I really be allowed to choose?”

“They are your hatchlings, Starscream. You will name them, you will raise them. We’re all here to help, always, and with whatever you may need, but they are yours.” Prime stared at him for a long moment. “Do you believe me yet?”

A surprised laugh escaped him, and Starscream pulled away to lean on the counter, optics tracing the little winglets where they now curled around the hatchlings’ shoulders. “I suppose if I can trust you in other ways, I should be able to trust that too.” Heat flashed through Starscream as Prime practically draped himself over his back, and settled his chin on the seeker’s shoulder.

“One would hope.”

Fingers stoked slow over Starscream’s transformation seams, gentle enough to be soothing, deliberate enough to tease.

“I’ll think on names.”

“I look forward to hearing them. You’ll be going out in public soon. You should think of one for yourself too.” Prime’s head dipped and his lips brushed over Starscream’s shoulder. Little nibbling kisses slowly trailed up his shoulder vent, just at the edge, making him shiver under the larger mech. And as had occurred the last four nights, “Tell me to stop,” Prime whispered, and gently bit Starscream’s neck.

He moaned low, wings flexing back for more contact with Prime. Starscream tipped his head to the side, allowing more access. Large fingers dipped beneath his armor and stroked lines and tweaked wires. Starscream moaned again, and pressed back into Prime’s body. “More,” he gasped.

“How much more?” Optimus whispered, as he did every night. His hand slipped low, teasing at Starscream’s hip joint and pelvic plating, but not touching the seeker’s interface panel. He hadn’t since that first time, unbelievably careful not to pressure Starscream, but still making the offer.

Starscream purred, the gentle touches building into a warm glow of arousal that left him hanging in indecision. He could stay where he was and just let Optimus overload him, or turn and caress and kiss each other until neither could stand. Or he could take Prime up on that first night’s offer to let Starscream explore and _touch_ him. He grinned at the thought of making the Great Optimus Prime writhe and whimper beneath him.

“I should ask you that,” Starscream said. “How far are you willing to let me go?”

Prime’s deep purr vibrated right though Starscream’s chest, shaking his spark and setting circuits to tingling with desire. Prime’s warmth and careful weight were gone in an instant, and Starscream found himself physically turned, his mouth captured in a hungry kiss.

When Prime pulled back, Starscream was gasping for air, dazed, body buzzing with need. “I want you,” Optimus practically growled. “In anyway you want to have me.” Large hands stroked and rubbed and squeezed all over. “Primus, you’re beautiful! Whatever you want, Star. Anything.”

A heady rush of _power_ made Starscream’s optics flare before settling to a darker shade of red. “Anything,” he purred, and slipped his fingers beneath armor, pressing his chest close to Prime’s. “Be careful what you offer to the power-hungry Decepticon, Optimus.” He stepped forward and Prime moved back, angling so he would be maneuvered to the berth. “What if I were to want your mouth back on me?”

“Say where,” Prime whispered in his audial.

“And what if I wanted to put my mouth on you?”

Prime groaned, backwards motion suddenly stopped by the berth.

Starscream set his teeth in a sharp bite over the main energon line of Prime’s throat. Another long rolling moan sounded. Starscream nibbled his way up Prime’s neck to his audial, and murmured, “What if I want to break my last seal, and see how long it takes to overload you with my spike?”

Prime’s hands clutched at Starscream’s waist, a shudder shaking the Autobot’s large frame, his head dropping to the seeker’s shoulder. Starscream smiled as Optimus whimpered.

“Oh, do you like that idea?” he whispered, hands dipping low, fingers tracing the seam between thigh and pelvic armor. Prime’s cooling fans switched on, and he moaned, hips pressing forward into Starscream’s touch. There was a tiny _snickt_ , and Starscream’s fingers caressed Optimus’ panel as it slid away.

“So eager.” Confidence bolstered by having _Optimus slagging Prime **trembling**_ against him, Starscream gently grazed his fingers across the newly exposed surface. Optimus gasped, knees giving, and pulling them both off balance to sag against the berth.

“Primus!”

Starscream snickered and placed a row of little kisses along Optimus’ jaw line.

“I don’t think… Primus! I don’t even know how you kept your spike from extending that night!”

“Having trouble with that legendary control, Prime?”

Prime actually cried out at the next delicate stroke of Starscream’s fingers. “Get on the berth,” Starscream ordered in a whisper. Optimus nearly scrambled to comply, and Starscream found himself grinning. How someone so graceful, composed, and reserved could become this shaking, eager, whimpering creature was simply amazing!

Starscream pushed Prime’s knees apart and knelt between them, taking the time to really look at what had been bared for him. The dim lighting made it a little difficult to see details, but that was fine. He leaned forward, hand pausing just before he touched Prime. “If I do something you don’t like-“

“I’ll say so! Please!”

Optic ridge arching, Starscream settled his hand near Optimus’ hip, and let his thumb graze over the Autobot’s interface array. The surface had a slight give to it, and Prime moaned, hips lifting and twisting a bit into the touch. Starscream planted his free hand on Prime’s abdomen and pushed him back down. “Patience, oh wise leader.”

“Slaggin’… tease!”

Starscream blinked. “Did you just swear?”

“Star!”

He snickered at the commanding tone. “Oh hush. You’re at my mercy, and unless you really don’t like it, you don’t get a say in what I do.” Starscream stroked his thumb inward, over a slight rise. “This,” he said in a low, teasing voice, “is your spike housing.”

“No that’s the tip of my spike.” Optimus voice sounded strained, and his trembling reached a new pitch as Starscream continued to gently caress the swell.

“You’re going to blow a relay. Let it out already.”

Oddly enough, Optimus’ shaking didn’t ease in the least as the spike slid out. If anything it became even more pronounced. Starscream slid his hand along the length a few times, testing the texture and feeling the ridges. Just like the surrounding area, the spike’s surface had a slight give to it, but was mostly firm and unyielding.

“Star,” Optimus moaned, voice husky and rough with need.

“I do like the way you say my name,” Starscream said, and gripped a little tighter, still testing, trying to be careful so he wouldn’t hurt Optimus. “I think I should keep it. Just Star though.”

“Whatever you want, just… please!” One big hand closed over Starscream’s and squeezed, pumping up and down over Prime’s spike. “Primus! Just like that!”

Starscream continued, but moved the hand on Optimus’ abdomen to the rather small looking port opening. When he touched it, his finger slipped through slick lubricant and Prime bucked, moaning louder than before. Starscream circled the edges, feeling his own desire ramp up as gasps and moans and little half stifled whimpers came more frequently. Prime’s arms were thrown wide, hands clamped to the edges of the berth, his fingers squeezing every time Starscream dipped his fingertip into the wet port. He grew bolder, pushing first one finger in deep, and then two when it seemed Optimus enjoyed it, the flexible walls stretching easily.

He watched as Prime shook and arched, hips bucking. Starscream shivered, heat pooling low. There was something so erotic about watching Optimus Prime coming undone, moaning, abandoned to his lust.

“Star!” Optimus shouted and arched, dissolving almost instantly into sobbing moans, and thrusting himself into Starscream’s grasp. Silver-purple fluid overflowed from the end of Prime’s spike as he shook and gasped and called the seeker’s name again.

Starscream slipped from the berth and grabbed one of Ratchet’s cloths, returning and gently cleaning Optimus up. He dropped the cloth when Prime reached over and bodily pulled him back onto the berth. Lazy, random, almost sloppy kisses covered Starscream’s face, mouth, and neck. He smiled and stopped Prime, leaning down to kiss the other mech properly.

“Enjoyable?”

“Quite.” Optimus regarded him for a moment in silence. “What about you?”

Starscream shrugged. “I suppose I should have stopped sooner.”

Prime actually smirked at him. “I can go again.” A glance down to see the spike had sunk back into its housing, had Starscream giving him a doubting look. “You mentioned your last seal? We don’t have to, of course. But if you still want to, I am most certainly not going to complain.”

“ _If_ I still want to?” Starscream laughed. “We should’ve uncovered the camera, then you could see what you looked like.”

“Put on a good show, do I?” Prime purred and nuzzled Starscream’s neck, licking and nipping the cables. Big hands caressed and squeezed the lower edges of his wings, and Starscream hummed, sinking into the sensations. Optimus’ touch moved to his sides, fingers dipping into armor seams, sliding around his back to tease wing hinges. Starscream shifted, rubbing his body along Prime’s and gasping as one strong silver thigh pressed up against his interface panel.

“Open,” Optimus whispered, hands pushing Starscream’s hips down more firmly.

He moaned as the panel retracted, then again as Prime rocked him against his thigh. Then he was being gently pushed away, and Optimus was sitting them both up, turning Starscream so they were chest to back. Lips pressed along Starscream’s cheek, Prime’s voice low and smooth in his audial as his finger dipped into the seeker’s port, thumb stroking the seal over his spike. Starscream tensed, only to melt back into Optimus.

“It will hurt a little. Like a sharp sting. Just find the commands, and execute them swiftly.” Prime’s thumb circled and pressed against the seal, finger stroking in and out. Starscream did as advised, and cried out in shock, going rigid and still. Optimus’ hand closed around his spike and squeezed gently, sliding up and down the length. “Good. Relax, you’re fine. It’ll never hurt to extend your spike again. You’re fine.” 

Starscream focused on Prime’s touch, and forced himself to relax and ignore the pain. It was already fading, but it had been worse than the little sharp pinch he’d been expecting. Phantom pain from… before… flared to life at this new reminder, and Starscream whimpered. “Optimus…” He gasped. “Talk. Please talk.”

Prime spoke. Voice low and soft, purring as he murmured that Starscream was safe, to say stop and he would. When Starscream said nothing, Prime continued, but now the words were suggestive. Then they became downright dirty as Optimus told him exactly how much he wanted to feel Starscream inside him.

“Stop,” Starscream gasped, hand grasping Prime’s wrists. “Primus! Where the slag did you learn to talk like that!”

A warm chuckle vibrated over his audial. “I told you I can be creative.”

“Right.” Starscream pulled away and turned, kneeling between Prime’s knees as the Autobot smiled and laid back. “You’re sure?”

In answer, Starscream’s hand was caught and pulled to Prime’s port. “Does this feel unsure?” Optics brightened slightly as Optimus blinked and released Starscream. “Unless you don-“

Starscream cut him off by pushing two fingers in. “We need to get over this all super careful slag. It’s a mood killer.”

Optimus raised his head and glanced down. “Your ‘mood’ doesn’t look killed.”

“Cheeky.” Starscream twisted his fingers around, pumping them in and out. Prime’s head dropped back with a low groan. Starscream removed his fingers, and gave Prime’s thighs a light push to open them wider. He shook as he lowered himself over Optimus, nervous but excited. Primus! Just the Autobot’s hand had felt amazing. But there was also quite a difference in size between his fingers and his spike. Starscream pushed the worry down. He’d go slow and stop if he had to.

He found Prime’s port by touch, and guided his spike to the edge. Optimus’ respiration was fast, gasping, his optics half shuttered and dim as he waited. Starscream pushed forward slowly, gritting his teeth as tight wet heat flexed and gripped the end of his spike.

“Ooohhh…” Starscream forced himself to stop. It felt entirely too good, and the way Optimus wriggled his hips, and fought to hold still, face etched in pleasure was almost too much already. A needy whimper from Prime had Starscream pushing forward again, careful and trying to focus on Optimus’ face, watching for signs of discomfort.

“More,” Optimus moaned. His hands twitched toward Starscream, then balled into fists before flying out to clamp again to the sides of the berth.

“You can touch me,” Starscream whispered.

Prime’s head shook. “Oh, no I can’t.” His voice was rough as he gasped, hips rocking up as Starscream slid deeper. “Primus! Star, please already!”

“Does it hurt?” Optimus shook his head again in answer, and Starscream smiled. “Then you don’t get a say,” he teased. Prime whimpered, port walls clenching for a moment, and the smile was wiped off Starscream’s face as bliss rushed his entire body. His back arched with it, and both of them cried out as Starscream thrust the rest of the way in.

They stared at one another, gasping, optics wide, vents on high. “Hurt?”

“No.”

“You can touch me.”

“I don’t know if I can without denting you.”

Starscream snickered. “Idiot. Put your hands on me.”

Optimus obeyed, large hands settling lightly at Starscream’s waist. “Now move,” Prime ordered.

Starscream began slow, barely pulling back before pushing forward again into the gripping heat. They found a rhythm and rocked with it, Starscream slowly lengthening his thrusts.

Soft gasps and low moans filled the room, gaining intensity and volume as the charge of arousal built.

Then suddenly there was a click, and light washed out from Prime’s chest.

“Optimus?” Starscream froze, staring down at the Autobot’s spark.

“I… Primus, Star! Please, I want this, you aren’t hurting me, please!”

Gently, Starscream eased Optimus’ chest plates back together, pressing them until he heard the locks engage. “I can’t,” he whispered, and leaned down to kiss Optimus, brushing their lips together. “I can’t,” he repeated.

Prime wrapped his arms around Starscream’s waist and hugged him close. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

Starscream stopped him with another kiss, then leaned up a little. “Don’t apologize. You asked, I declined. I’m not frightened. I’m not turned off,” he grinned, and rolled his hips around, earning a sharp gasp. “And neither are you, I think. Ask me again some other time. Alright?” Optimus nodded, and rocked his own hips a bit in encouragement. “Does that hurt? Your spike out between us like that?”

“No.” Prime arched and bucked a bit again, and Starscream eased them back into motion. “It doesn’t hurt,” Optimus moaned, hips rolling up. “It’s a damn tease though!”

Smiling, Starscream shifted, reaching between them, and closing his hand around Optimus’ spike. Prime bucked up hard, crying out, back arching. Starscream slid his free hand up to clutch the top of Optimus’ chest armor, anchoring himself as the grip at his waist urged him on faster. The momentary surprise and pause had helped Starscream regain some semblance of control over his systems. It took no time at all though for Optimus to begin matching every thrust, soft cries and broken words of want falling from his lips.

Suddenly Optimus’ port tightened, his back bowing off the berth, neck arching back and to the side, mouth open in complete rapture. A low long groan rumbled forth, the tone the very definition of satisfaction. Starscream’s hand became slick on Prime’s spike and as the Autobot broke into ecstatic sobs, he felt the first ripples of his own overload begin.

Optimus’ hold on Starscream’s hips was tight, still urging the seeker on, begging in whispered, rasped pleas. Starscream held onto Prime and gave into the driving need as waves of molten fire flashed through him with every thrust. Lust bolted down low, his body tensed, tightened, then overload crashed over him and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

Prime cried out, bucking up, face twisted in desperation. Starscream fought off the blackness of unconsciousness and thrust hard, using his hold on Prime’s chest armor for leverage. Optimus threw his head back, thighs clamping to Starscream’s hips, and roared in release.

Starscream clapped a hand over Optimus’ mouth, and rocked until the Autobot’s hands fell away and his body went limp. Starscream flopped over Prime and started snickering. It quickly dissolved to giggles that only got worse as Optimus stared at him in sated, lazy curiosity.

“Gotta love those surprise overloads,” Starscream grinned.

Optimus let his head fall back, and huffed a short laugh. “Primus, now I know why it took two to clear your systems last time.”

Starscream pulled back, his spike retracting as he moved. He froze when Optimus winced. “I hurt you.”

A half-sparked flick of Prime’s hand waved away the concern. “Think I’m just a little sore. There was no discomfort until just then.” He reached up and caught Starscream’s shoulders, pulling him down and shifting around until they could both lay comfortably tangled together.

Silence fell and their respiration finally slowed, cooling vents shutting down with a soft whir.

“What are our chances of getting into the washracks?”

Optimus snickered and cuddled Starscream closer.

“I’m serious,” Starscream said. “I’ve got… you… all over me!” But Prime just laughed harder.

Starscream held himself stiff, refusing to give in to the desire to laugh too. Slagging Prime and his contagious, open, spark-tingling laugh. Finally the Autobot sighed and calmed, but he poked a finger playfully into Starscream’s side transformation seam. “Don’t pout,” Optimus grinned and pecked little kisses against the seeker’s lips. “Besides, we can clean up in here more discreetly.”

“Discreet?!” Starscream pulled away and sat up, laughing now himself. “I didn’t get my hand over your mouth _that_ fast, Prime!” Still chuckling, Starscream set about cleaning up, tossing an extra cloth to Optimus.

“I wasn’t that loud.”

“Oh, yes you were!”

Prime was quiet for a few minutes. “I don’t think we would have been heard beyond the medbay, and no one should be in there right now.”

“Think or hope?” At the uncertain, slightly embarrassed expression on Optimus’ face, Starscream smirked. “At least we’re good together. That could have been much worse. Imagine how good we’ll be after some practice.”

Blue optics shot wide. “I’m going to start disabling my vocalizer.”

Starscream had to lean against the counter until he stopped laughing.


	7. Part Six

Starscream woke with a lurch as Optimus jostled him.

“Move it, lover boy!” Ironhide said, and gave Prime’s shoulder another shove.

Starscream snarled, claws coming out as he clutched wide red shoulders. “Mine! Go find your own.”

“Ya can have it back tonight,” Ironhide said, and dug one large finger into Starscream’s wrist, forcing him to let go and his claws to retract automatically.

“It?” Prime grumbled.

“Yeah. Get up and make somethin’ of it if ya have the energy.”

“Jealous?” Starscream purred as he hopped off the berth. A quick glance around showed Ratchet was in the room as well, and holding an energon cube.

Ironhide snorted. “I had it first, seeker. You should be thanking me.”

“Ironhide!”

Starscream purred again, and leaned over Optimus. “So pretty when you blush.” He looked up at Ironhide. “And yes, _thank_ you.”

“If you’ll all excuse me, I think I’ll go purge a tank.” Ratchet shoved the cube into Starscream’s hand, and headed for the door.

Ironhide smirked. “That’s the jealous one,” he said, jerking his thumb at the medic.

Starscream matched the smirk, and faced Ratchet. “Why Ironhide! You’re just the mech to help me!” He grinned as the old warrior’s head tipped in curiosity. “I need to lock Ratchet and Prowl in a storage room or… somewhere. Anywhere.”

“Done. I’m sick of them dancing around each other.”

Ratchet’s optics shot wide, and he actually backed a few steps away from Ironhide.

“Later,” Prime cut in. “Is there a reason you’re here rattling me awake, Hide?”

“Yeah. Duty calls.”

“Wonderful,” Prime sighed, and levered himself off the berth. Starscream winked and sipped his energon, leaning against the berth. He was surprised when Optimus leaned back across it and kissed his helm, purring low and sensually. “Later, Star.”

Starscream shivered, and then glared as both Ironhide and Ratchet snorted laughs. As Prime and Ironhide left, he knocked back that last of the energon, and dispersed the cube. As soon as the door lock beeped, he rounded on Ratchet.

The medic stumbled back in surprise, optics wide in sudden fear. “Wha-“

“How dare you not tell me!” Starscream demanded, backing Ratchet into the corner where the counter met the adjacent wall. “Moron! Slagging irresponsible idiot!”

“Primus, what are you glitching over?”

Starscream growled, the sharp _snickt_ of his claws popping out almost echoing in the room. “Optimus Prime is a carrier! You _know_ what we’re doing, and you didn’t think that _maybe_ you should mention it to me so I don’t slagging cause an unwanted _conception_!”

Ratchet’s optics were wide and brighter than usual. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he managed to speak. “Carrier?” he practically squeaked.

Starscream narrowed his optics, and loomed closer. “You are his Chief Medical Officer,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Do not presume to tell me you did not know.”

“I didn’t,” Ratchet whispered. Then louder when Starscream growled. “I didn’t, I swear! Prime’s… Prime. Fragging Pits, Starscream, he doesn’t get slagged in battle! And the one time he did, everything in his chest cavity was such a frelling mess, even _I_ could barely tell what was supposed to be what among all the melted circuitry, gaping holes, and burned out cabling!”

Starscream stared hard at the medic. He finally decided to believe Ratchet, and shifted back a little. Not enough to let Ratchet escape the corner without a physical fight, but so that he was no longer crowding him. “You didn’t know?” Starscream asked.

“No. How the frag do you?”

He snorted and really did move away, hopping back up onto the berth and leaning back on his hands. “I know because he exposed his spark to me, and I happened to be at the right angle to see that little valve you told me about at the bottom of his crystal.”

“You merged sparks with Optimus?”

“No! No, I saw it in time, thank Primus and the Unmaker both!” Starscream sat up straight and scrubbed his hands over his face. Primus, what a disaster that could have been had he not seen!

“Why would it matter if…” Ratchet trailed off, and when Starscream looked up, it was to see the medic’s gobsmacked expression. “You didn’t!” But a grin was starting to pull the corners of his mouth up.

Starscream snickered, then purred. “Oh, I most certainly did.”

Smarmy grin now locked in place, Ratchet walked over and hopped up on the berth beside Starscream. “What’s it like?” he asked in a conspiratorial tone.

“Pretty frelling amazing,” Starscream answered earnestly. “Touch to overload has _nothing_ on this.” He paused and shifted closer, wing brushing across Ratchet’s back. “Want me to show you? Get a little practice in before blowing Prowl’s circuits?”

Ratchet looked genuinely tempted, but before he could answer, the door lock beeped. He was on his feet, and pulling out components as Wheeljack and Perceptor entered the room.

“Good morning, Starscream,” Perceptor greeted. “Pleasant recharge?”

The little scientist looked hopelessly baffled as Starscream and Ratchet burst out in laughter.

~ | ~

“It will be a while before Prime can join you, Starscream,” Prowl said, optics never leaving the datapads spread before him on the counter.

Starscream stopped pacing, hands planting on his hips as he glared at Prowl. “I’m sorry. Am I bothering you?”

“Not at all,” Prowl answered, voice calm, smooth. Starscream bit back a snarl of frustration, and went back to pacing. “I only mentioned Prime would be a while so you could take the opportunity to rest before he arrived.” Starscream spun around to stomp back towards Prowl, and glanced up from the floor. The mischievous glint in the tactician’s optics brought Starscream up short.

“Oh, shut up!” Starscream snapped.

Prowl didn’t bother to hide his amused smile, but did go back to his work. Starscream sighed, and sat on his berth. He stared at the back of Prowl’s head for a few minutes before sighing again. “How long is a while?”

“You should rest.” Prowl turned a bit on his stool to look Starscream over, frowned slightly. “I am willing to listen if you would like to discuss the issue causing your anxiety.”

Starscream flopped across the berth as melodramatically as he could manage. Not that it would do him any good. He might have Prowl’s attention, but he couldn’t actually discuss why he was so anxious to see Prime. “I can’t.”

“Then you should rest until Prime comes.”

Sighing yet again, Starscream shifted around to lie properly on the berth. “He never wakes me.”

“I will wake you. Now rest. I have seen Ratchet’s reports, and you are still recovering.”

“I’m fine.”

The lighting cut in half. “Good recharge, Starscream.”

“Slagger. When do I get comms back? Ratchet tortures me with the lights in here during the day.”

Prowl chuckled. “Clear the request through Prime. Although I am certain the reason you do not have them yet, is because Ratchet does not want you accessing the lighting controls in here.”

“That’s stupid.”

“This is part of the medbay.”

“What’s _that_ have to do with anything?!” Starscream crossed his arms and glared at Prowl’s back.

“It is Ratchet’s territory.” Prowl twisted around enough to flash a grin over his shoulder. “Why do you think I change the light settings?”

“You’re annoying him on purpose? I thought you wanted him?”

Prowl didn’t turn away fast enough to keep Starscream from seeing the blush, but when he answered his voice was as calm and collected as usual. “I am one of the few that can get away with teasing Ratchet.”

“That’s because he wants you,” Starscream pointed out with a grin. “Did you know I have someone willing to help me trap the two of you in a room together until you both drop this foolishness, and ‘face each other senseless?”

“I did not know that, but thank you. I shall be wary.”

Starscream huffed and scowled again. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Prowl’s doorwings twitched, and Starscream felt his optics widen as he thought of the most likely reason for that. He grinned, but continued in the same tone. “You’re both fools, but you especially. Do you have any idea what that medic can do with his hands?” There was another slight twitch, repressed this time. Starscream’s smiled widened. Wing twitches couldn’t be completely masked from a seeker. That was practically a language to his kind.

“You really should rest while you wait for Prime.”

Oh? And was the tactician’s voice a little more clipped than usual? “I should. Maybe my processor will kick up a few pleasant images while I recharge. I wish I could set which ones I wanted to experience again.”

Prowl’s doorwings more than twitched, they hiked up a little higher, and his back was stiff. Starscream sighed once more, but this one was as dreamy as he could make it without overdoing the act. Prowl’s doors flared and then drooped. He turned all the way around to face Starscream.

“Clever little seeker.”

And where was this going? And he wasn’t ‘little’. Starscream cocked an optic ridge. When in doubt, play innocent. “Me?”

Prowl smirked, then schooled his features back to neutral. “To be honest, I simply do not know how to go about something as… emotive… as that type of relationship would require.”

“Wow. You really are stupid.”

Blue optics flashed slightly. “Why are you so interested in Ratchet and I beginning a relationship?”

Starscream shrugged. “I’m bored. And you plainly want to, or you wouldn’t have been twitching with jealousy that I’d gotten him first.” Prowl’s frown was infinitely satisfying. “Which I haven’t, by the way. But if it inspires you to move your aft and do something about it, I’m sure I could seduce him in the next few days.”

The frown turned into a glare. “That would hardly be a mature response.”

“But undoubtedly enjoyable,” Starscream purred.

“And what of Prime?”

“What of him?”

“You were just pacing and twitching quite a lot yourself, wanting to know when he would arrive. Why would you attempt to seduce Ratchet-“

“I’m not _pining_ for him, you dolt! I need to speak with him about something important! Primus! Only you and Ratchet have imagined Prime and I having deeper feelings for each other than we do, and I’d lay odds on the reason for that being you both projecting your own slag on us!” Starscream threw his hands in the air. “It’s not that complicated! Idiot Autobots and your soft little sparks! The two of you want each other. I picked that out the first time I saw you interact! Ironhide agreed… with _me_ … instantly, to lock you two together. Prime smiles at you both in the most ridiculously indulgent way when neither of you are looking! Everyone knows! Primus, just go ‘face him already and get it over with!”

Prowl stared in shocked silence a moment. “Prime?”

Starscream grinned. “Oh, yes. Primus, even the twins know not to try dragging Ratchet off to their berth because you would find creative ways to punish them without it looking like punishment to anyone who didn’t know!”

Behind him the door lock beeped and Starscream turned just in time to see Prime enter. His own nervousness returned with a vengeance as Prime smiled and greeted them. Prowl and his datapads were gone in an instant.

“You really should stop teasing him about Ratchet. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

Starscream blinked. “Were you listening in?”

Prime’s laugh rolled through the room, and Starscream braced himself against the now familiar tug of arousal the sound evoked. “I just know you’re tenacious, and that they haven’t settled yet. Two and two makes four, I believe is the saying.”

Optic ridge raised, Starscream deadpanned, “Uh huh. Sit.” Starscream pointed to the end of his berth. “I have something to discuss with you.”

Large hands reached out and clasped Starscream’s own. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have exposed my spark like that. Not without at least asking first, and I swear I had no intention of upsetting you-“

“I’m not upset, but you might be!” Starscream snapped, jerking his hands free. “I refused because I didn’t want you to conceive unwillingly, not because it frightened or disturbed me. I told you that then!”

“Star, no hatchling would come from your spike inside me, I’d have to-“

“ _You_ are a carrier too!” Starscream cycled his vents in an effort to calm himself. Prime turned and sank back against the edge of the berth, one hand slowly coming up to cover his spark. “I saw the valve at the bottom of your spark crystal. That’s why I refused. That’s honestly the _only_ reason I refused, and we’re damn lucky I saw and knew what I was looking at.”

“I would have-“

“It never failed when The Fallen took me or one of the others.” Starscream paused a moment, biting his lip and nervous again. He liked and respected Prime, and was honestly concerned that he had handled last night wrong. “Should I have stopped? Should I have said something last night?”

“Pits, no!” Prime shifted back, turning and folding his long legs up on the berth. He was staring down at his own ankles, but Starscream could see the wry grin. “No, I’m very glad you didn’t stop last night. One more day of not knowing hardly matters after a lifetime of ignorance.”

“It’s not like you can see your own spark.”

Prime sat up straighter. “Really, it doesn’t matter. I know now. And that makes seven of us that can carry.”

Starscream’s optic ridges shot up. “Oh? Now you’re fine with the breeding program?”

Wincing, Prime shook his head. “If I can carry, then I must. I’m the Prime.”

“Right!” Starscream hissed, furious. He jumped to his feet, and stomped a short distance away before spinning around and returning. He jabbed a finger at Prime. “You _are_ the slagging _Prime_. That's your first responsibility. You have _more_ than enough to keep yourself occupied with for the foreseeable future _without_ trying to care for a hatchling! I don’t know the details, but I know you’re trying to work things out for our future with all the human governments. You had _better_ be making sure there aren't any other Decepticons out there who might not be willing to leave earth alone. And wasn’t there a mention about some of the humans still wanting to conduct a few experiments of their own?!”

Starscream felt almost immediately sorry for pointing out all the challenges Prime was facing. The things he _knew_ weighed the Autobot down. “I’m going slagging soft,” he muttered, and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look there’s absolutely no reason that in a vorn or two, when the rest of us begin to bear sparklings, that you can’t too. _If_ you want to. Ratchet and I are the only ones that know, and really, for your safety, this shouldn’t become common knowledge.”

“It’s my duty-“

“You are so full of slag! And a hypocrite too! There _are_ seven of us! And as I pointed out, we have no intention of having any more hatchlings right now. We need time for the humans to grow accustomed to us. We start a hatchery like The Fallen had, and we’ll be wiped off the face of the planet before we even know the humans have figured out we can reproduce.”

Prime slumped. “You think I’m a hypocrite?”

Starscream nearly shrieked in frustration. “In regards to breeding? Yes! You wanted to deny me and maybe the others the chance to bear sparklings for our people, when we see it as an honor. But more than that! We _want_ to do it! Bluestreak is probably already trying to come up with twenty-seven names!”

“Twenty-seven?”

“There are. On Earth. Currently. Twenty-eight. Cybertronians,” Starscream bit out. “So unless we can fuck ourselves and manage to spark solo, there will be twenty-seven hatchlings per carrier. More if others arrive, and that is only considering the first round.”

“Where did you learn such a foul Earth word?”

Starscream glared draggers. “I was here for over a year before the Allspark was found. I may not like humans, but I had to hide amongst them. And given the correlations, ‘ _fuck_ ’ is entirely appropriate!”

“Is that what last night was?”

Switching to his sweetest voice, Starscream said, “Would you like me to tell you where to cram this melodrama?” He waved his hand at Prime’s slouched form, while continuing spitefully. “I wonder what Megatron would think of an image capture of you right now.”

Blue fire flashed through Prime’s optics. “That’s low,” he growled.

Starscream was instantly wary, but pleased nonetheless. “Decepticon, remember?” He waved his hand again, but dismissively. “Now knock the slag off. Primus! Is this another facet only I’m lucky enough to see? Or is the Great Optimus Prime’s random bouts of melancholy a well-kept Autobot secret?”

“If you team up with Ironhide, I will never overload you again,” Prime said, voice still a low growl of displeasure, but his optics had mellowed back to their usual shade.

“Please, Prime. I literally grew to maturity next to Megatron. If you think I can’t spot an empty threat when I hear one, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Prime suddenly swung his legs over the side of the berth, and swiftly stood. Starscream flinched back, and snarled in irritation at his reaction.

“You seem… tense.” A smile slid onto Prime’s face. “Are you tense, Star?”

Starscream only just managed to suppress the shiver that deep, rolling tone always inspired. “And I’m accused of switching moods too fast to follow.”

Prime chuckled. “Come here. Let me give you some incentive against teaming up with Hide.”

Starscream backed away, confused and a little unnerved by the sudden shift in emotions. “You were just moping, and now you want to ‘face?”

“Why not?”

Starscream was pulled into a strong embrace, lips grazed his audial. He had no hope of suppressing the shiver this time. “Primus…”

“Say stop,” Prime whispered, and nipped his way down Starscream’s neck, moving them back to the berth.

Starscream moaned. “Slagger…”

~ | ~

“Starscream.”

“Starscream?”

He was nudged, well, Skyfire’s definition of a ‘nudge’, and hissed. “Oaf! I’m concentrating.”

“Don’t you ‘oaf’ me, you winged minibot. I need to you to look at these calculations.”

Starscream huffed and flicked his wings in irritation. He moved to lean over Skyfire’s shoulder, and carefully followed the mathematical equations. He was silent for a while, even settling himself more comfortably over his friend’s frame.

“There.” Starscream pointed. “Primus, Fire, how’d you miss that?”

Skyfire stared at the screen for a moment before sighing. “Slag.” He immediately went about fixing the mistake. “Thank you, I really think I’ve just been staring at all this too long.”

“Then you should have argued for my earlier release from the medbay,” Starscream said as he moved back to his workstation.

“I don’t argue with Ratchet. Snark is your department, remember?”

Starscream snickered as he settled into his work again. “As if I would ever allow any of you to forget that!” He focused as the three dimensional molecular model turned on the screen.

“Primus forbid we have any peace.”

“Yet you’re the one that won’t shut up.”

“I thought you liked my voice,” Skyfire purred.

“Wow, Skyfire!” Wheeljack laughed. “Who cares if Star doesn’t? You talk with that tone while in it, an’ ya can share my berth anytime!”

“Primus!” Ratchet swore. Perceptor was off in his corner giggling.

Starscream turned and faced the medic, pointing at Wheeljack. “ _That_ ,” he said, “is how you do it. No go find Prowl.”

“Over ‘faced slaggers, the lot of you,” Ratchet grumbled, hunching back over the parts he was assembling for Wheeljack’s newest solar radiation collector.

Laughter filled the lab, and Starscream grinned at Skyfire when the large mech tweaked his wing tip. “ _Just make sure he isn’t storing any projects under that berth first_ ,” Starscream sent through his comm.

Skyfire’s laugh suddenly rose over everyone else’s.

~ | ~

“There you are,” Prime said as he entered. Starscream continued to stroke his hand over the glass of the incubation tank. Large hands settled on his shoulders and Prime leaned over, kissing the top of Starscream’s head. “Are you alright? Did something happen in the lab today?”

Starscream smiled at the concerned tone, and shook his head. “I missed them.”

Prime’s hands squeezed on his shoulders. “Then telling you I arranged for you to have your own quarters, really isn’t going to be as exciting for you as I’d hoped.”

“I thought this room…” Starscream trailed off, and looked around. Perhaps not.

“No. Especially now that you’re recovering. Besides, this is hardly a safe place to keep two inquisitive seekerlings.” Prime chuckled. “I know today was your first day out, but the base is quiet right now. Would you like to go see your new quarters? You can still recharge in here until they are born if you like.”

Starscream rose, letting his fingertips linger on the glass. “Show me.”

~

Starscream was genuinely surprised, but covered it by striding into the room with all his legendary conceit. And it was a large room, and a generous sized berth dominated one corner. He smirked over his shoulder. “We won’t have to recharge curled together on that.”

A low purr resonated from Prime, and a single finger traced the top edge of Starscream’s wing. “I should have ordered it to be smaller then. But really the size is because you will likely be sharing it at times with both of your hatchlings. Three seekers in a berth will need more space.”

Starscream nodded and inspected the rest of the room. There was a desk with computer console, chair, shelves on the walls, and a fairly decent amount of floor space. “Rather well appointed for being a ragtag refugee base on an alien planet. And what should be there?” he asked pointing to the conspicuously empty corner adjacent to the berth.

“Grapple and Hoist tell me they are nearly finished with a mobile, railed berth for the hatchlings. I have no doubt you will have plenty of mechs willing to mind them while you work in the lab, but they both feel having a place for the hatchlings to recharge near you would be good.” Prime gave Starscream an unusually stern look. “I do hope you will be properly appreciative of their efforts.”

Starscream sneered. “I do know how to be polite, Prime.” He cast one more look around the room. “This will do.”

Prime chuckled. “I’m happy you’re pleased, your Grace.”

Unsure whether to grin or be insulted, Starscream decided to smirk. “Does the door lock?”

“Yes,” Prime said, slight confusion coloring his tone.

“Want to break the berth in with me?”

A wicked grin curled Optimus’ lips. “What if I just wanted to watch you break it in?”

Heat shot through Starscream’s circuits. “Alone or with some other mech?”

“Alone,” Optimus purred, reaching behind himself to key the door locks.

Starscream shivered, and sank back into the surprisingly plush padding of the berth. “Kinky,” he whispered.

Optimus straddled the chair backwards, crossing his arms and watching Starscream through dark-shaded optics. “You have no idea.”

~ | ~

“So-when-are-they-going-to-be-born-already?” Blurr asked.

Starscream glanced up from his cube as the fast-talking Autobot sat down across from him. Sunstreaker sneered and shifted his chair away, but Sideswipe snickered. “Hey, Blurr.”

“Hi-Sides-Hi-Sunny,” Blurr said. By now, Starscream had realized Blurr knew exactly how he was viewed by those around him. He knew who was unbothered by his speedy chatter, and who he annoyed. And Starscream delighted in the fact that Blurr pretended ignorance just to further annoy those like Sunstreaker and Ratchet.

“I thought that wasn’t something to be discussed out here?” Starscream asked, referring to Blurr’s initial question.

“Humans-can’t-come-in-here.-Energon-can-be-dangerous-to-them-so-our-Recreation-Room-is-mechs-only.”

“Ah,” Starscream said, and looked around the room. Really looked. When the twins had first escorted him in, he’d been… not intimidated, of course not… but surprised to see so many Autobots. He’d really only dealt with them in ones and twos other than in the lab. Starscream had kept his optics locked on the energon dispenser, and then the table in front of him. Now he really focused on the details. It was a large area. In fact, there was enough room to hold all the mechs currently on the base, and more should any arrive. All the seating was Cybertronian in size and style. There was a fairly big television monitor mounted on one wall. It was on and currently playing some human action movie. Starscream didn’t find it appealing, but he could see how this space was designed without the same human adaptations that many areas, including the lab and main medbay, had.

“So-when-to-I-get-to-hatchling-sit?”

“About another two weeks,” Starscream answered.

“And what if your kids end up talking like Blurr?” Sideswipe grinned.

“Better than them being preening fops.” Starscream gave Sunstreaker a significant glance.

“Better not let Tracks watch them then,” Sunstreaker said.

“Probably. He’s almost as vain as you.”

Sunstreaker’s smile held a sharp edge. “Says the seeker that can’t stay out of the washracks.”

Starscream smiled, wide and open. “Oh, vanity isn’t what keeps me returning to the ‘racks.”

“Then-what-does?” Blurr asked, head cocking bird-like.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Starscream purred.

Beside him Sideswipe purred and leaned a little closer. “But are you willing to show?”

Starscream glanced between the twins, both seemed to be honestly waiting for an answer. Blurr wore a bemused expression. “Depends on what you want to see,” he finally answered, facing Sideswipe.

“I’ve recently learned I have more to learn.”

“Ah,” Starscream said again, tone was noncommittal. That was definitely a topic that wasn’t for public discussion. “I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Blurr. “I maintain that no matter how fast you can go on the ground, it’s nothing like flying.”

Blurr blinked, optic ridge rising, but he allowed the topic change without comment.

Another thing Starscream decided he liked about the mech. Discretion. That was a bit of a surprise.

~ | ~

“ _Grapple to Starsc… Grapple to Star. Location._ ”

Starscream started at the sudden comm call, instantly bristling at Grapple’s tone. “ _I didn’t realize I needed to check in with you._ ”

“ _Unappreciative glitch. I’m at your quarters, and know you are off duty. So wherever you are, get here._ ”

“ _Is there a reason I should answer your summons, oh precious builder?_ ”

“ _No. I’ll just override the locks, put the hatchlings’ crib in the room, and leave you locked out until I feel like wandering over here in the next vorn or so to let you back in!_ ”

Sighing, Starscream sat up on the medical berth. With a last glance at the hatchlings, he left. “ _On my way._ ”

“ _Good, I don_ -“

“ _Just so you know,_ ” Starscream cut Grapple’s grumbling off. “ _Had you simply started out by saying you needed me to unlock my door and why, we could have avoided all this… snark._ ”

Something of a snort came across the comm, and Starscream was surprised to hear a slight inflection of amusement in Grapple’s voice. “ _Like one can manage to converse with you without snark occurring. Grapple out._ ”

The link closed, and Starscream grinned as he hurried to the building that held all the Cybertronian personnel quarters. He was excited to see this construct of Grapple and Hoist’s for his hatchlings.

~ | ~

“Star? Were you coming to the lab today?” Perceptor asked as he peeked into the room.

“In a little while.” Starscream moved his hand to the left, watching as the hatchling’s head swiveled to follow the movement.

“Oh! His optics have onlined!” Perceptor was suddenly at Starscream’s side. He wedged himself between Starscream’s wing and the counter and leaned in close to the tank. “What is his range? How fast can you move that he can still track it? How long have his optics been open? How clear do you suppose his vision is? Do you think he sees in a range of colors, or grey scale like some Earth beasts? What-“

“Enough!” Starscream said. “And I thought _I_ was excited,” he muttered. Starscream moved his hand to Perceptor’s shoulder and pushed the scientist back a bit so he could once again see his creation’s face. The hatchling’s chin dipped to follow the movement, but then the other moved and his attention turned to his twin.

“I am sorry, Star. It is just so very fascinating.”

“Uh huh. It is. You are not watching them.”

Perceptor faced Starscream with a hurt expression. “You will not allow me to interact with them?”

Starscream snickered. “I don’t know. Are you going to play with them, or quiz them to death?”

Frowning now, Perceptor turned back to the hatchlings, reaching out to gently draw the one’s attention. “I am aware they are not a research project, but I have never before had the opportunity to learn first hand about Cybertronian hatchlings. Creations born in this way have not been the norm in ages for our people.”

It was Starscream’s turn to frown as he looked at Perceptor. “Not the norm?” His mind flew back to the last time Perceptor had tried to broach this topic with him.

Perceptor’s optics did not leave the hatchlings. “Your ability to carry is uncommon. Surely, Ratchet has discussed this with you?”

“Did he discuss it with you?” Starscream asked, caught between curiosity and suspicion.

“No. He does not need to as I am fully educated in the matter.”

“Then why did you ask me about it?”

“I was curious about _your_ experiences.” Perceptor turned to Starscream. “I know you do not wish to speak of the trauma, and I do apologize for reminding you of it. I would still like to hear a first hand account, that is, if you ever do feel able to speak of it. I would be interested in knowing the difference between the clinical accounts I have studied and personal experience.”

Starscream shifted his gaze back to his creations. “The clinical descriptions are closer to the truth of it than my serial rapes.” Perceptor’s flinch was visible even in periphery vision and Starscream sighed, weighing the risks of telling Perceptor the truth now, rather than when it became his turn to help in creating hatchlings. “However, I’ve found some pleasure in parts of it.”

“Interface rod and port stimulation?” A blush tinted Perceptor’s pale face despite the matter of fact question.

“Yes.”

“Ah. Well, I would also suppose that interacting with another mech would still be different than self-exploration.” The blush deepened, and Starscream smirked.

“I wasn’t referring to self-exploration.”

Startled optics wide, Perceptor stuttered out, “Pr…Prime?”

Starscream just grinned in answer, and watched as his hatchling’s optics shuttered and they both settled into recharge. He stood. “Shall we join the others in the lab?” Perceptor nodded. “And, Perceptor?” The scientist paused on his way to the door and looked up at Starscream. “Not a word to anyone, and I really do mean _anyone_.”

“Of course not. It is a private matter.” But his face was still bright pink when they entered the lab.

~ | ~

Starscream’s shift in the lab ended and he returned to the medical room, entering the locking code. He was unsurprised to see Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe crowded into the corner by his hatchlings. Now that both had their optics open, the place to be was in front of the incubation tank, awaiting a chance to play with them.

“You seriously need to pick names, Screamer,” Sideswipe said, briefly glancing over his shoulder.

“The most wonderful thing about officially changing my designation to Star, and only Star, is that you really aren’t allowed to call me Screamer anymore.”

Sunstreaker snickered. “If asked we’ll tell them we call you that for how loud you are in the berth.”

“He’s loud?” Bluestreak asked.

“Not as loud as Sideswipe,” Starscream said. He was surprised when Bluestreak punched Sideswipe in the shoulder.

“You said you guys didn’t get Star into your berth yet, you liars, I thought we were better friends than that, how could you keep something like that from me?” Optics wide and hurt, Bluestreak ranted on. “You lied, I asked you if you could show me yet, and you said you didn’t know how to do it!”

Starscream snickered and wrapped an arm around Bluestreak’s waist, petting one door wing gently. The babbling was still annoying, but he was becoming fond of the younger mech. Sideswipe’s optics were wide, just as surprised as Starscream had been. “I was teasing, Bluestreak,” Starscream murmured in the Autobot’s audial.

“You were?” Bluestreak asked, voice hesitant even as he sank back into Starscream’s embrace.

“I really was. Only Autobot I’ve ‘faced with is Prime, and everyone knows about that anymore.” Starscream paused a moment. “Well, unless you count Skyfire, but that was before the war and was just touch, not what you want.”

Bluestreak sighed heavily and pressed back against Starscream, letting the seeker take some of his weight. “Do I really have to wait a whole vorn? I want a hatchling of my own.”

Sideswipe laughed. “I thought you wanted to do the sex?”

Bluestreak sighed again. “Well, yeah! But the whole point is to conceive a sparkling.”

“Even if I had been with them, it wouldn’t be to create a sparkling,” Starscream said. He watched as Sunstreaker moved one finger in slow circles, the hatchlings’ little heads swiveling to follow.

“But you do know what to do so it’s not awful, and it doesn’t hurt like you were hurt, right? I mean, I don’t want it to hurt if I can avoid that, cuz I really don’t like pain. I was with a mech once that did, and that really wasn’t fun at all, I don’t like hurting others, and he kept pinching me and scratching me way too hard trying to get me to hurt him back, and I finally just pushed away from him and never ‘faced him again. I mean, it’d be one thing if we’d talked about it and set up for something like that, ya know? Nothing wrong with a little dominance-submission, but I’d sure have liked to know before getting on the berth with him. That’s sorta one of those things I like knowing ahead of time so I can get in the right headspace for it.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were staring at Bluestreak in shock, and even Starscream was a little taken aback. “I didn’t know Autobots were into that sort of thing,” he finally said.

Bluestreak smirked over his shoulder. “Who said he was an Autobot?”

“I meant you,” Starscream said, then grinned. “You Autobots are kinky little slaggers. Decepticons really have no idea about you. We think you share sparks and fall in love and write sappy poetry to each other.” He snorted, and teased his fingers beneath Bluestreak’s armor. “Instead you speak of dominance and submission like you know what you’re doing.”

Bluestreak purred, and squirmed a bit in Starscream’s arms. “Wanna find out how much I know?”

“I’ll think about it. Which do you prefer?”

“Dominance.”

“I don’t know that we’d match well then.”

“I really can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Sideswipe said.

“No kidding,” Sunstreaker agreed. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Starscream stared at the hungry look Sunstreaker was giving Bluestreak, and began laughing. “Can I watch?”

“Now who’s kinky?” Sideswipe grinned.

Bluestreak giggled, and twisted his head around to look up at Starscream. “I prefer to get to know my lovers before I play games with them. I’d still like you to show me the right way to do the new stuff though. And I wouldn’t want to play around with that until I was confident enough to know what can really damage a mech and what won’t.”

Starscream nodded, and stroked Bluestreak gently one last time before pulling his fingers away. “I honestly have a little more learning to do myself. But I will consider it.”

“Gonna be popular, Screamer,” Sideswipe teased. “If you and Prime are the only ones that have actually done any messing around you’ll be getting ‘faced plenty.”

“Stop calling me that.” Starscream raised an optic ridge. “Are you telling me that the two of you haven’t tried it yet at all?”

“We don’t want to frag ourselves up,” Sunstreaker said.

Sideswipe reached out and ran his hand over the front expanse of Starscream’s wing. “So is Prime all possessive of you, or you gonna be our teacher?”

Starscream shifted his wing back from the proprietary touch, and frowned as a little chill of fear tripped through his body. “I will think about it. There are things I haven’t even allowed Prime to do yet.”

Bluestreak sighed, and moved forward to lean on the counter. The hatchlings had drifted back into recharge at some point, but he still reached out and stroked the glass. “We don’t mean to rush you. I mean, I know I’m all impatient for a hatchling of my own, but we really can’t yet, it’s not worth the risk. I understand that. I am really curious though. Thinking about it sorta makes my circuits heat.” He looked over his shoulder at Starscream. “And your wings are really pretty, and I always thought it’d be exciting to be with a seeker, cuz, ya know, you guys sorta have a reputation and all.”

“Do you talk this much in the berth?”

Bluestreak turned, leaning back against the counter on his elbows, body lazily on display in what Starscream now knew was purposely done. “Yes,” Bluestreak purred, tone very much at war with the innocent smile he wore.

The twins shared a look, and Sideswipe caught Bluestreak’s arm. “Come on, Blue. We should give Screamer here some alone time with his kids.” Bluestreak let himself be towed to the door, and Sunstreaker followed. “And pick some names already, _Star_ ,” Sideswipe called over his shoulder.

Starscream rolled his optics and dragged a stool over. “Am I going to have to put up with the two of you being like them?” he asked and stroked the glass. “And really, what should I call you?”


	8. Part Seven

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Prime asked. His optics were dim, frame hot as Starscream continued to tease his wires with one hand and stroke his spike with the other.

“I asked for it.”

Optimus moaned, hips rocking into Starscream’s rhythm. “Primus, Star! Stop.” He gently caught Starscream’s wrists and pulled them away from his body. “I can’t think when you touch me.”

“That’s the idea.” He was given an annoyed look. Not that it had much power with the way Prime was panting.

Prime shifted back further from Starscream. They were kneeling in the center of Starscream’s berth, and were probably both a little more than half way to overload. “There is no rush.”

“Optimus, if you don’t want to, just say so. Don’t try to push this off on me. I’m not afraid, or trying to get over the past, or whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“Oh I want to. Believe me I want to.” Prime pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am a little concerned I won’t be very controlled. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Starscream snorted, and crawled into Optimus’ lap. “You are incapable of hurting me.” He arched his hips, sliding his spike against Prime’s, and sucking on a strong neck cable.

Optimus moaned. “That is not true.”

“Is true,” Starscream whispered, gasping at the sensations rolling through his body. Kneel higher, cant his pelvis, and sink down, and… He moaned, wanting it, but unwilling to force Optimus. However, he was not above trying _really_ hard to tempt his lover.

“Star…”

Starscream gasped in shock as he landed on his back, Prime’s body covering his in an instant. His mouth was claimed by Optimus’ firm lips and sweeping tongue. His port was equally claimed by thrusting fingers. Starscream moaned into Prime’s mouth, body bucking up as fire coursed through lines and over circuits. His spark pulsed in sympathetic flares. The kiss was ended with a slightly stinging bite to his bottom lip, and Optimus buried his face in Starscream’s neck, sucking the cables in between sharp nips.

“This! Oh slag! Optimus!” He’d meant to say that forceful was different than painful, but all that would come out of Starscream’s vocalizer were moans and pleas for more.

Just as Starscream thought he would overload, just as he thought the charge couldn’t get any stronger, Prime’s fingers disappeared. Starscream’s whimper of disappointment quickly became a scream of ecstasy as Optimus drove his spike home in a single slow thrust. Sensor nodes that had never before been touched for pleasure ignited in an instant, and overload crashed through Starscream. It wasn’t until Prime’s hand gently covered his mouth that he realized how unusually loud he was being. Even then he couldn’t stop. Optimus withdrew a little, setting a rocking rhythm, and Starscream’s world shattered before he had even recovered from the first release. Optimus’ fingers clenched on Starscream’s mouth and hip, a deep moan quickly breaking into sharp gasps as he followed the seeker into overload.

They lay panting, Optimus leaning up to kiss Starscream’s chin where he’d dug his fingers in accidentally. Starscream stared at the ceiling, body tingling, and he thought he could probably go again if he didn’t feel like he would drop into recharge in the next second.

Or start screaming as images began to flash through his mind.

Prime eventually shifted himself gently off Starscream, and lay to the side.

Starscream didn’t bother moving. Not to close his panel. Not to shift his wing out from under the slight pinch Prime’s side was causing. Not even to look at the worried blue optics burning into the side of his head.

“Star?” Optimus whispered, the backs of his fingers caressing Starscream’s cheek. “Starscream?”

He was trembling as Prime leaned over him and into his line of sight. “Star?” Optimus repeated, voice concerned.

Starscream blinked, and felt the tears slide from the corners of his optics. “It didn’t hurt,” he whispered. “I overloaded twice. I liked it.”

“Then why are you crying?” Optimus asked in a strained whisper.

“I don’t know.”

Prime gathered him up gently in his arms and laid them on their sides, heads resting on the slight rise of padding at the top of the berth. “Close your panel, Star,” Prime murmured, voice betraying his guilt and pain. Starscream obeyed without thought and curled into Optimus’ arms, body racked by silent sobs until he finally lost consciousness.

~ | ~

“No!” Prime snapped. “Not again. No. Do _not_ ask it of me!” Starscream was only mildly surprised at the vehemence of Prime’s refusal. “Do you have any idea how my spark broke that night? Do you have even the slightest notion of how horrible I felt, how horrible I still feel for it? You’re still having nightmares, Star! How the frag can you ask me to do it again?!”

“Wow. Swearing.”

“Do not be flip with me over this!” Prime growled. “Not over this!” He paced the length of Starscream’s room, hands fisted and tension radiating off every line of his frame.

Starscream sighed, and flexed his wings in frustration. He was sitting cross-legged in the center of his berth, and had been hoping to entice Optimus back into it. But only the threat of going to another mech to ‘try it out again’ had brought Prime to him. The Autobot leader had genuinely been avoiding him for almost a week and he was sick of it. The threat hadn’t been empty either. Bluestreak could likely be trusted to be gentle. “You’re being foolish.”

Prime stopped and glared down at Starscream. “ _I_ am being foolish?!” He threw his hands up and went back to pacing. “Primus!”

“You didn’t hurt me. I wasn’t even sore. I enjoyed it very much!”

“So much you have nightmares about it!”

Starscream snarled, furious that Ratchet had told. For the last five nights he had indeed woke screaming, only to find the medic there, awakened by an alarm setting indicating negative stress in the seeker. “So it brought up old memories!” Having had enough, Starscream stood and grabbed Prime by his upper arms. “I expected this! I didn’t really think it’d be so strong, but I did expect it! And I didn’t have nightmares the night you stayed with me.”

The tension drained out of Prime, and his arms slid around Starscream’s waist, pulling him into a gentle embrace. “If you want me to, I will stay with you tonight, but I am not interfacing with you. And when we do get back to that, I am not taking you.”

Starscream jerked away. “I _want_ you to! Damn it! Why are you so stubborn over this? I _need_ you to do this! I _need_ those memories replaced! I need-“

Optimus’ arms wrapped around him again and Starscream gave up, sinking against the larger mech and crying.

“I need to be over this,” Starscream said, voice muffled by Prime’s chest.

“And I need time. You aren’t the only one who gets to say ‘no’.”

Starscream was genuinely startled by Optimus’ words, but nodded in agreement. “It is, primarily, supposed to be fun.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to Starscream’s audial. “It’s not fun to make you cry. I really am sorry, Star. We can play, I certainly do enjoy your passion, but I can’t claim you that way again right now. Give me some time.”

Nodding, Starscream swept the tears off his face and looked up, forcing a lecherous grin. “So we can play?”

“Not tonight.” Optimus smiled a little and swept Starscream up in his arms, settling them on the berth facing each other.

“What about tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

“Tomorrow morning? Begin the day nice and relaxed. Nothing better than a good overload first thing in the morning. Starts the day right.”

“Is that so?” Prime chuckled, cuddling close.

“One of my old wingmates swore by it.” Starscream was thoughtful a moment. It had been a long time since he had thought of his trine. They were both gone now, dead for over a millennium.

“Did he?” Optimus voice had taken on a sleepy note, and Starscream smiled.

“He did. And I think I know what I’ll name my hatchlings.”

“Oh?”

“Recharge. If you want to know, you’ll have to earn it, and you’re going to need your rest for that.”

Prime chuckled, and found Starscream’s lips for an easy kiss. “Then stop talking so I can.”

“Did you just tell me to shut up?”

Optimus blinked as though confused, but the slight grin ruined the effort. “No.”

“Yes, you did! You did it in that soft-sparked Autobot way of yours, but you did!”

“Star?”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

Starscream snickered and tucked his head under Prime’s chin, listening as the his systems quieted into recharge.

~ | ~

“So you’re the new guy, huh?” asked a small dark-skinned human.

Starscream bit back a sneer, and merely nodded. He hoped that if he mostly ignored the fleshlings, they’d go away and leave him in peace to enjoy the quiet of the evening.

“We’re told you’re a neutral?” the other human asked. It had a lighter complexion and smoother cadence of speech. Starscream nodded again, staring out over the waves, forcing down the desire to launch away and shred the clouds hovering over the horizon. There was a storm coming. He could race the lightning, glory in the chill of the rain.

“So why ya got red eyes?”

Starscream raised an optic ridge, and looked down at the human. “I’m a warrior model.”

“But you’re a neutral?” the pale one repeated.

“Yes.”

“Man, this is like pullin’ teeth.” The darker human dropped to its aft in the sand, arms draped over raised knees.

Starscream gave a half smile and decided to tell a little truth to the creatures. “Blue optics do not mean only Autobot, nor do red optics mean only Decepticon. Some mechs have gold, or green, or purple optics. There are even a rare few that have white.”

“In our experience, Decepticons have red optics.”

Starscream inclined his head. “Most do, but that is because most warriors did not like the civilian bureaucrats trying to regulate them after they returned as heroes from a foreign war. For a very long time the warriors were revered, but as the last Golden Age waxed on, our people forgot why they held those willing to fight in such high regard. The warrior caste stopped a threat before it came to Cybertron, before history could repeat itself, and they were shunned for it, instead of celebrated.”

“Earth has had instances of similar sounding events.”

Starscream nodded in acknowledgment. “Ages ago, long before the civil war, an alien race invaded Cybertron. None had red optics back then.” He shifted position, careful of his movements even though the humans were a safe distance from him. Leaning back on his hands, he stretched his legs out, heels almost touching the rushing tide, and went back to staring at the sky.

“These invaders were a techno-organic race, and they came to conquer and enslave Cybertron. We fought back of course, but even in the dark these creatures could see us coming due to our optics. Someone, his name long lost to history, learned that the invaders had a limited view of the color spectrum. They could not see red.”

“Infrared,” the lighter human guessed.

“No, or you wouldn’t be able to see my optics. They would look unlit, or at least dimmer to you. But we used it the same way your kind use infrared. It is a difficult, uncomfortable procedure to change one’s optical frequency. Only the most serious of warriors did it at first. Unfortunately the enemy was well entrenched by then. More and more chose red optics, and still many of them were deactivated in the campaigns that finally freed Cybertron.”

“So you changed your optics, then?” the dark one asked.

Starscream shook his head. “No. I am descended of true warriors. I know you humans like to think red equates evil when it comes to Cybertronians, but you are incorrect.” And that was the truth. Starscream could remember facing a number of Autobots that had red optics.

The dark one’s head tipped, and a doubting expression drew his brows together. “So if you’re descended of warriors, then why didn’t you fight the Decepticons?”

“Do all humans that can fight join your wars?”

“Touché,” the lighter one said.

Starscream sighed. “What are you designations?” He was tired of thinking of them as dark and light. Primus, he was going to be living here and very likely to see them again.

“Will Lennox.”

“Bobby Epps. What’s your name?”

“Star.”

“Welcome to Earth, Star,” Will Lennox said. “We’ve heard plenty of rumors, but no one’s been talking much about you or the... sparklings?... is that the right term?... that came with you. We were told you were close to death though.”

Starscream shuddered despite himself. “I was very close to death,” he said quietly. “And yes, sparklings is the correct term.”

“How are they?”

“Growing in strength every day. Ratchet is confident he will be able to release them from stasis any day now to wreak havoc on this base.”

“So they’re like kids?” Bobby Epps asked.

“As I understand human reproduction, yes.”

“How do alien robots have kids?” Lennox frowned at his comrade. Was this something they weren’t supposed to ask him? Or was it the term ‘robots’, which Starscream could imagine many mechs taking offense at? He didn't particularly like it himself.

“The Allspark,” Starscream answered simply.

“Yeah, but that was destroyed two years ago. And before that, it’d been on this planet for thousands of years.”

And here was the test. Starscream shrugged. “I found them in stasis before fleeing Cybertron. I did not commission their build, I do not know who did, and I do not know their precise creation date.” He looked down at the human. “They have red optics, and look to be seekerlings.”

“Seekerlings?” Lennox parroted.

“Infants of my model type.”

“So, Star,” Epps said, and a grin curved his mouth up. “Those wings there do anything besides make rolling over a pain in the ass?”

Optic ridge cocking up, Starscream sat forward and fanned his wings. “Besides carry me on the winds, you mean?”

“You can _flap_ those things?” Lennox shouted, and hurried a few steps back as Starscream repeated the flex.

Epps laughed. “Giant alien robot butterflies!”

Starscream took a moment to look up the term and then frowned, his wings snapping out stiff and hitching high. “Mind who you call an insect, _human_ ,” he sneered. Both men froze, eyes wide. Realizing his mistake too late, Starscream snorted, and flicked his wings in a display of irritation. “When transformed, my wings lock in place. There is no _flapping_ so I can flit around like some miniscule Earth _bug_.”

Another derisive snort sounded, but from behind Starscream, startling him and the two humans. “Something to remember about seekers,” Ironhide said, walking up to crouch by the humans. Blue optics practically glittered with what looked like amusement, but what Starscream feared was suppressed rage. “They’re horribly vain, conceited creatures. And way too proud of their fancy little wings.”

Amusement or rage, Starscream refused to let that pass. “Jealous ground pounding dirt-kisser,” he said with a smile and sweet tone.

“Not every mech in the ‘verse suffers from wing envy.”

“Of course not,” Starscream said, and waved a hand dismissively at Ironhide. “Some of us were born as seekers.”

The humans laughed and Epps stood, knocking the sand off his aft. “Least the new guy’s as interesting as the rest of them.”

Lennox chuckled. “See ya around, Star.”

He nodded, and watched as the humans left.

“I’m impressed you managed not to squish them,” Ironhide said.

Starscream rolled his optics, and focused out over the ocean again. “Of course I didn’t.”

“Good. Because I can promise you that if ya ever decide to hurt a human, no force, not even Prime, will keep me from ripping your precious wings off.”

“Keep your threats, Autobot,” Starscream sneered. “I have no intention of harming any of the filthy fleshlings!”

Ironhide remained quiet for a few minutes, and the dark clouds moved closer. “Prowl and Ratch are gonna play Quasar. Wanna bet on the winner?”

“Ratchet,” Starscream replied.

“Prowl’s good.”

“Ratchet’s more creative.”

“They’re gonna be in Prowl’s office.”

“Alone?” Starscream asked, trying to keep the hopeful ring from his voice.

“Yup.”

“Prowl’s office, you say?”

“Yup.”

“Can you override the locks so they can’t get out?”

“Nope.”

Starscream frowned at Ironhide. “Then why bother telling me?”

“I can’t,” Ironhide said. “Red Alert can.” He faced Starscream. “But he requires a form of payment I can’t provide.”

Instantly wary, Starscream asked, “What kind of payment?”

“Says he wants the first shift of sparkling-sittin’ duties after they’re out. Wants a full two cycles without it costing him his chips.”

“I… I don’t know if that’s possible.” Starscream glanced around to make sure no humans could be listening. “They will be dependent on my energon, and I don’t know how often they will require it.”

Ironhide waved off his concern and stood. “Says he doesn’t care whether you’re present or not. He just wants time with the little ones. You in or not?” He reached a hand down.

Starscream stared at the warrior’s hand a moment before clasping it and letting Ironhide pull him to his feet. He smirked. “Tell Red if this works, he can have three cycles. But failure only earns him one.”

Ironhide was silent a moment as they left the beach. “Agreed. He says he’d be willing to provide video proof for five cycles.”

“Agreed. But five has to be divided up or it’ll be suspicious.”

“You think they aren’t gonna know who did this to them? Only reason Red’s willing is because he knows Prowl will never complain about this to Prime.”

“Fine, but ten hours almost guarantees Red Alert will have to spend time with me too.”

There was another short silence. “He says that’s fine. Doubts you’ll be too much of a glitch with your infants present.”

Starscream huffed a short laugh, and entered the main personnel building.

Ironhide caught his arm and tugged him into the Rec Room. “My price for setting this up is three cycles.”

“What?!”

“I’m the one that bounced back ‘n’ forth between, Ratch and Prowl to get Ratch to challenge Prowl to a game. I’m also the one that got to Red, and convinced him to help us.”

“But you want this to happen as much as me!” Starscream accepted the energon Ironhide handed him, and ignored the odd looks they were getting. “Two.”

“Two and half or I tell Red it’s off.”

“I _will_ be present.”

“Fine, but I’d never hurt the sparklings,” Ironhide said sincerely.

Starscream grinned, sitting, and leaned forward, elbows braced on the table and voice low so only Ironhide would hear. “Oh, I know. You’ll probably just sing them lullabies in that rather pleasant rumbly voice of yours. That one that I know just goes right through the glass and pod, and soothes them into recharge.”

Ironhide’s optics were comically wide before narrowing to dangerous slits.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Hide,” Starscream snickered. “You’re secret’s safe with me. Primus forbid any other Decepticon finds out you’re a big softy.”

“I _can_ slag you.”

“But then I won’t let you snuggle my infants.”

Ironhide snorted, then downed his energon. “Hurry up, fly boy. Red says they’ve already discovered the door’s locked, and the show’s gettin’ interesting.”

Grinning, Starscream finished the energon while rising, and dispersing the cube as he hurried after Ironhide.

~ | ~

Starscream smiled as he caught sight of Prime standing in the surf. Shallow waves frothed over the big Autobot’s feet, the sun shockingly, almost impossibly bright. But then why shouldn’t it be? If he was ever going to pick a day to be sappy and poetic, it would be today. Starscream glanced down and smiled at the two little hatchlings curled safely in his arms. They were awake, but calm, content to snuggle against his chest. Tiny fingers curled into his pectoral vent, strong for one so new and little.

When he looked back up, Prime was just beginning to turn. A happy smile curved its way across Optimus’ face, that one that Starscream hadn’t witnessed anyone else receiving.

Starscream pouted a little as the sun was hidden by a cloud. Everything had been so… shiny. And why was it taking him so long to stride across the beach? It wasn’t that big, but he was hardly any closer to Optimus than when he set out.

And why was the sky getting so dark? Slag, if a storm was rolling in, he’d need to take the hatchlings back inside. Just out of the pod was too young for the tropical storms that occasionally pounded the island.

The waves churned behind Prime, but his happy smile never faltered. Not even when Starscream cried out and tried to warn him. Not even when Megatron’s burning blade appeared through the center of Prime’s chest. Starscream shrieked, caught between wanting to rush forward, and turn away, protect his hatchlings. But then something caught his optics. Something small was expelled from the gaping hole in Prime’s chest. Starscream watched, horrorstruck, as a tiny pod crashed to the sand. It burst, the sparkling squirming weakly. It twitched, then went still. Impossibly still.

Starscream couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. He clutched his hatchlings tight, and tried to will himself away from the scene. Tried to block out the sounds of Megatron’s triumphant laughter.

Dark claws suddenly appeared over Starscream’s shoulders and the hatchlings were snatched from his grip. He spun around, whispering, “No, no, no!”

The Fallen smiled and looked at the hatchlings, so small in his hands, engulfed within the powerful claws. He turned his optics to Starscream, smile sharp and malicious.

“Please, no!” Starscream gasped. Thunder rolled in the distance.

The large hands squeezed. His hatchlings were crushed, never even having had the chance to cry out.

Starscream stared, mind whirling in denial, horror… Then he _screamed_.

There was pressure over his mouth, weight on his legs. His arms were trapped between his own body and an immovable wall. Starscream fought wildly, sank his claws into the metal against them, screaming, shrieking, drowning out the low rumble of thunder from the storm. But no matter how he fought, he couldn’t get free.

“Star.”

He heard it from a distance, and searched in the dark for Prime’s fallen form.

“Star.”

Shrill screams morphed into gulping sobs, and the pressure over his mouth eased.

“Star, come back to me,” Prime murmured against his audial, voice rolling with the same tone as the thunder. “Star.”

Starscream sagged under Optimus’ weight and wept as the nightmare images replayed in his mind. Prime’s death, almost exactly as it had occurred. The tiny sparkling… Where had that image come from? His hatchlings…

His hatchlings!

Starscream struggled, words broken as he tried to shove Prime away. “My hatchlings! Have to see! Need them!”

“Calm down. Star. Starscream!” Prime gave him a little shake, but Starscream kept trying to fight his way free.

“No! He killed them!”

“They’re fine, Star. No one would ever hurt them.”

“No!” But he really was no match for the strength of the Prime, and eventually had to give in.

Optimus wrapped his arms around Starscream and held him close and tight, hands stroking gently. “Prime to Ratchet,” he said out loud.

“ _What’s wrong?_ ” Ratchet asked, and Starscream remembered through the fading haze that the medic was still monitoring his systems.

“Star had a nightmare. Can you check the status of the hatchlings for us?”

“ _They’re fine. It’s him I’m worried about. If you were anyone else, I’d slagging well dent you for ignoring my comms!_ ”

“I apologize, but Star needed me more than you needed to know what was going on.” Optimus pressed a gentle kiss to Starscream’s cheek. “He can hear you,” he said over the comm to Ratchet.

There was a sigh, and Starscream tried to calm himself. “ _I know. I can hear him. Star, the hatchlings are fine. Perfectly fine. They’re currently awake and look like they’re playing with each other’s hands. Correction. One of them is now chewing his brother’s fingers._ ” There was a soft chuckle. “ _Relax and come see them if you want, but they’re safe and healthy._ ”

“Thank you,” Starscream whispered, voice still hitching despite his best effort to control it.

“Prime out,” Optimus said and cut the comm. “Are you going to be alright?” he asked.

Starscream started to nod, but then the images flashed again and he gasped. Instead he shook his head and burrowed into Optimus’ arms.

“Calm down a little and we’ll go see the hatchlings. I take it the dream was focused on them and not your… past?”

Starscream nodded. “The Fallen crushed them in his hands after Megatron killed you.”

Prime’s hands paused in their petting a moment before resuming. He kissed Starscream’s cheek again. “It was just a dream. Tell me when you’re ready and we’ll go see the little ones.”


	9. Part Eight

“I thought you would still be in the medbay,” Prime said as he entered Starscream’s quarters.

“I spent the whole day there.”

“I know, I just thought…”

Starscream glanced up when Prime paused.

“Are you alright?” Optimus asked, one hand reaching out to caress Starscream’s face. “Star?” he said when Starscream didn’t answer.

“I…” Starscream hesitated. Being with the hatchlings all day had soothed some of the fear away. Unfortunately, that only left more room for images of Prime’s death to haunt him. Starscream recognized guilt when he felt it. He wasn’t without regret in his life. His gaze had dropped, and he forced himself to look back up into Prime’s optics. He was no coward. “I wanted to apologize for the part I played in your death.”

Blue optics shot wide, Prime’s mouth falling open in surprise. Then he grinned, wide and happy. The hand on Starscream’s face cupped under his chin, Prime’s other hand sliding around his waist and pulling them closer together. “It worked out,” he said simply.

Starscream stared, stunned. “It worked out? It worked out?!” He pulled out of Prime’s arms, incredulity warring with… anger? Fear? Frustration? Starscream wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. He paced away and when he turned, he saw Prime’s amused expression and huffed. “I’d be dead now too if not for your miraculous return!”

“So would I,” Prime chuckled.

Starscream closed his optics, and tried to rein in his building temper. “How can you be so… indifferent to your own _death_?”

Prime pulled Starscream back in against him and held him tight. “My death served a purpose. Everything happened so fast, and I barely remember it. One moment I was telling Sam to run, the next I was waking, Ratchet databurst me the info I required, and I was off to fight The Fallen.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t the first time I’ve regained consciousness on a battlefield, and to be completely honest, there are far greater things in my past that haunt me more than my own death.”

Starscream remained quiet for a moment, enjoying the warm embrace. “So you aren’t the least angry with me for the part I played?”

“I would be lying if I said I was pleased with any part of the war. But you have accepted your chance to start fresh here. So no, Star, I am not angry over that battle. We need to look to the future, not dwell on the past.”

Starscream smiled. “Have you always been such a forgiving and hopeful little fool?”

“Yes,” Prime chuckled. “And soft-sparked. Don’t forget soft-sparked.”

“As if I could,” Starscream snorted.

“Is your guilt alleviated?”

“Mostly.” He pulled back and tipped his head up to look at Prime’s face. Optimus’ smile was slowly shifting to a leer. “What are you thinking?”

“Wondering if it would be completely inappropriate to suggest you make it up to me until you feel better.” Optimus’ fingers dipped beneath Starscream’s armor, flitting over sensitive wires and circuits.

He shivered, then smirked. “How generous of you.” Starscream let his hands drift down to Prime’s hips, then lower. He drummed his fingers lightly over the other’s interface panel. They hadn’t shared _that_ sort of pleasure since Prime had taken Starscream. But he would continue to let Optimus say no if he wanted.

A soft _click_ sounded in the quiet of Starscream’s quarters. Optimus’ optics shaded darker, and Starscream found his fingers curling around a firm and ready spike.

Arousal flared warm, and swept through Starscream. He stroked and caressed with teasingly light touches, and watched as Optimus’ optics flickered and closed in pleasure. Starscream grazed his teeth along the side of Prime’s chin, then kissed the same area to sooth the sting. In his most seductive purr he asked, “What would you have me do, my lord?”

A low moan rolled from deep within Prime’s chest. “Is this that authority kink you claim not to have?”

Starscream licked and sucked his way along Optimus’ neck. “You realize that asking for sexual favors as part of my atonement is hardly a punishment?” He froze as Prime’s hand wrapped gently around his throat, forcing him back far enough for their optics to lock. Lust, with the smallest hint of fear, sent a shiver straight down Starscream’s back. His wings trembled ever so slightly.

Prime’s growl was nearly subsonic in its depth. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

Another shiver, this one accompanied by winding aching need, drove Starscream to his knees. His hands clutched at Prime’s thighs-

“ _Ratchet to Star and Optimus! Looks like it’s time. Get your afts to the medbay._ ”

Starscream froze as the comm was cut as suddenly as it had been initiated. Above him Optimus swore roundly, and stepped back out of reach. Starscream blinked, then began snickering at the colorful tirade.

“Just… Go and tell Ratchet I’m right behind you.”

“Can you get that tucked back away?” Starscream laughed outright as Prime paced to the wall, and none to gently, dropped his forehead against it, hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Not with you still in reach. Out! I’ll be right there.”

Starscream nodded, not that Prime was looking, and hurried out. He even felt a little guilty. His own circuits were still burning, and he only just managed to get his cooling vents shut down as he reached the medbay. But nothing could have kept him in that room once he knew his hatchlings were ready to be born.

Ratchet gave him one quick glance as Starscream entered the room, then turned back to the now open tank. “Get over here. Where’s Optimus?”

“On his way. Said he’d be right behind me.” Starscream stepped up to the counter. “Shouldn’t we be helping them?” The hatchlings were twisting and stretching. The sight of them struggling was enough to chill the last of Starscream’s arousal.

“They’ll break out on their own,” Ratchet said, and began gathering cloths, then adding water to a shallow tray.

“Are you sure? And what are you doing? What do we do when they’re out?”

Ratchet chuckled. “Stop panicking. Yes, I’m sure. And when they break free, they are going to be covered in gel and energon and the pod fluids. We’re going to clean them up. Mostly _you_ are going to clean them up, so they imprint most firmly on you.”

“Oh,” Starscream said in a weak voice as he watched the hatchlings fight to break the pod. “Can’t we help them?” The top edge of his wing was gently squeezed.

“No. Believe me, they aren’t distressed. Breaking free on their own is important, and actually helps strengthen them.”

Starscream was still doubtful, but said nothing more as Ratchet moved away. He was extremely relieved when the door locks beeped and Prime entered.

“What took you so long?” Ratchet demanded, but Starscream thought he caught the ghost of a smile.

Prime strode across the room and wrapped his arms around Starscream’s waist. “You look terrified,” he whispered. “Look how active they are. They’re so strong. They’re going to be fine, Star. Calm down.”

Starscream leaned back, realizing that he was shaking, and focused on Prime’s soft touches and quiet voice. As he watched, one of the hatchlings curled his tiny claw-tipped fingers into the side of the pod and pulled. There was no coordination to the movement but it was effective. The pod membrane tore and a wash of pale violet fluid spread into the energon-rich gel.

“Ratchet!”

“I saw.”

“But what about their intakes?! The gel-“

“Will not hurt them,” Ratchet cut in. “Honestly, Star. They’re fine. Just watch, once they get the pod shredded a bit more you can lift them out. They need to free themselves though.”

Starscream didn’t really like it, but was willing to let the medic have his way. After all, his first born had only lived three days, and he had helped him escape the pod. Guilt washed through him. Circumstances had been against them all, but if only he’d known a bit more, he might have been able to keep one alive. “I just want them to live,” Starscream whispered.

“They will,” Ratchet said.

The hatchling that had managed to start the tear, stuck his arm out through the gash and paused in his struggles.

“Amazing,” Prime said.

The little hand clenched and opened a few times before pulling back in and promptly, if clumsily, going right into the hatchling’s mouth. The other kicked and squirmed and the hole opened further.

“Ratchet?”

“Give them time.”

The first pulled his fingers out of his mouth, and went back to what still looked like frantic struggles to escape to Starscream. He whimpered, and only Prime wrapping one arm over his kept him from reaching into the tank.

“They’re doing well,” Ratchet said.

“They’re going to hurt themselves and each other!”

But just then, the first curled, arched, twisted and pushed against his brother, and slipped from the pod into the gel. The hatchling stilled, little arms and legs pulling in, tiny tongue testing the gel. Starscream didn’t wait for permission. He pulled free of Prime’s hold and lifted his creation free of the tank.

Without a single thought for the mess, Starscream cradled the infant close, nearly panicking at the gurgling of clogged vents.

“Here,” Ratchet said. He caught Starscream’s wrists and pushed and pulled until the hatchling was somewhat upside down, face toward the floor. With a convulsion and cough the newborn’s vents cleared, and Starscream felt weak with relief as a thin squeal sounded.

“The other is free except for his left leg,” Prime announced.

Starscream hesitated. The one in his hands was slick and squirming, but he desperately wanted to free the other. Ratchet lifted the first from his hands with a laugh, and Starscream immediately pulled the second twin free of the tank. He kicked and wriggled and a shrill cry of protest followed the cough that cleared his intakes.

“Bring him here,” Ratchet said. “You have the energon subroutine running, right?”

Starscream frowned in confusion, but then remembered. “Oh! Yes. Yes, I’ve had that running. I’ve even tested the energon.”

Ratchet grinned. “Good. Now come here.”

It took longer than Starscream would have expected to clean up both hatchlings and himself, but he was finally able to sit on the berth and hold them close. One infant cuddled in each of his arms, their little feet kicked lightly against each other’s legs. Their wings hung limp and soft to either side of Starscream’s forearms, and the firstborn was busy sucking his fingers again.

“You said you thought up names?” Prime murmured. Both he and Ratchet were hovering close.

“How are we going to tell them apart?” the medic asked.

“I’m going to name them in honor of my trinemates.” Starscream lifted his left arm a little, indicating the firstborn. “Thunder.” He repeated the gesture with his right arm. “Sky.”

“That’s a beautiful sentiment, Star.” Prime nuzzled Starscream and kissed the side of his neck.

“It is. But once they figure out how to crawl around in a couple days, how are you going to tell them apart?” Ratchet reached out and gently stroked Thunder’s head. The infant squirmed at the strange touch.

Starscream shrugged. “I can see differences. Thunder’s optics are rounder. Sky’s chin more narrow. And Sky is slightly darker.”

“It’s strange to still be able to see their spark light,” Prime said.

Ratchet smiled and moved his fingers into view for Thunder. “Their plating will firm up as they age and darken. I would say the sparks won’t be visible any more in a couple weeks. Just last week they were easier to see than they are now.”

Thunder managed to catch one of the bright red fingers and dragged it directly to his mouth. After a few moments of sucking he let go and squeaked out a distressed chirp. Sky answered it and kicked.

“Uh oh,” Ratchet chuckled.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, did the hatchlings begin to cry in earnest.

“How am I going to feed both of them?” Starscream stared, feeling cold panic seep through him as their cries grew more distressed.

“Lay them down,” Prime suggested. “Here.” He took Sky from Starscream’s arm and, careful to lay the soft wings flat, settled Sky on his back at the end of the berth. Starscream followed and laid Thunder next to his twin, resting his elbows to the outside, and laying on his front.

“This will work,” Starscream said, and rested his hands over his creations’ chests, middle finger bent just enough so they could suck on the tips. He watched as both calmed almost instantly. Within minutes, their optics had shut and bodies relaxed.

“How do you want to announce this, Star?” Ratchet asked softly.

“However is best,” he answered.

Prime leaned in and kissed the top of Starscream’s helm. “I’ll do a base wide announcement from the Command Center telling everyone that Ratchet has released the sparklings from stasis and they are stable.”

“That does sound best,” Ratchet agreed. He leaned over Starscream’s shoulder. “Primus! I can’t believe how cute they are. And you’re right, Star. There is no way that humans won’t recognize these two as babies. They’re too much like human infants for us to pretend any different.”

“Are you keeping them all here tonight, Ratchet?” Prime asked.

“No. There’s no reason to. But you go ahead. I’ll help Star get them to his quarters once they’re done feeding.”

Prime nodded, and with a last stroke along Starscream’s wing turned to the door. His gasp of surprise drew Starscream and Ratchet’s optics.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker landed in a heap at Prime’s feet. Prowl blushed furiously. Some of the other mechs pushed forward to see, others skittered back, fearing punishment.

Ironhide leaned a forearm on the doorway, and craned his neck to see the newborns. “Red Alert saw ya haulin’ aft over here, then Prime followed. Figured we might all be in for some good news.”

Prime pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Turning away from the tableau at the door, he walked back over to Starscream. Sky had let go of his finger and was recharging soundly, a small dribble of dark pink energon clung to the corner of the newborn’s mouth. “I’ll help you, Star. It seems I have nothing to announce.” He wiped away the energon.

Starscream grinned and gently pulled his hand away from Thunder, lifting him as Prime picked up Sky.

“You can all see them tomorrow,” Ratchet said, taking charge and shooing everyone away. “Star will comm you one at a time to come visit them when _he_ is ready.

“Me first?” Sideswipe asked. He’d made himself comfortable on the floor, and though grinning, still managed to look pleading and pathetic. Starscream crouched down and let the red mech have a quick peek.

“That is so not fair,” someone muttered.

Starscream chuckled. “Tomorrow. I promise.” He let Prime cut their path, and grinned as a surprising number of gentle touches to his arms and wings occurred. He flashed a bright smile back at the crowd of mechs in appreciation, and followed Prime to his quarters.

The door lock beeped and Prime smiled. “Tell me if they won’t leave you some peace. Ratchet mentioned something about you needing a few days to really allow the hatchlings to bond to you.”

“They’re just excited.”

Prime chuckled. “I’m excited! And you are handling the attention well.”

Starscream smirked. “I’m an attention whore, and well aware of that fact.”

Laughing softly again, Prime rocked Sky in his arms, the hatchling looking even smaller cradled against such a large frame. “Lay down. I’ll put him with you. Should I stay? You can just comm me if you need anything, and would rather be alone with them.”

“No. Put him in here.” Starscream leaned over the crib and laid Thunder down on his front, smoothing the winglets.

“You don’t want to recharge with them close?”

“Later,” Starscream said, and gently lifted Sky, placing him next to his twin. The infant chirped, but his optics didn’t open, and after a few wiggles, settled back into recharge. Starscream straightened and pinned Prime with a hard look. “You’re going to have to be quiet if you don’t want interrupted this time.”

“What?”

Starscream snickered, then reached out and walked Prime backwards until his back pressed against the far wall from the newborns. “The hatchlings interrupted something, didn’t they?”

“Star, you don’t-“ Prime cut himself off with a groan as Starscream sank to his knees.

“Open.”

Optimus moaned again as his panel slid away.

“Offline your vocalizer if you have to, because if you wake them, playtime is over.” Starscream grinned as Prime’s head thonked against the wall.

~ | ~

Starscream heard the human long before it was close enough to require acknowledgment. 

“Those are some big babies,” Will Lennox chuckled.

Starscream glanced between where his twins sat pushing their hands into the sand, and the human. His creations were shorter, but doubtless denser and heavier. “I would use caution. They are not aware of their own strength, and are large enough in comparison to harm you.” He reached forward quickly, and stopped Thunder from shoving a handful of sand into his mouth.

Lennox laughed again, and Sky turned to see what was causing the new sound. He chirped, trilled, and crawled straight for the human. “How fast do they develop? And what are their names?”

Blocking Sky from simply grabbing Lennox, Starscream quickly looked up basic developmental information of human infants. “In some ways they grow slower, and in others they are more advanced. These two are only a week old and they are capable of crawling, a… milestone, that you humans accomplish by the ninth month of life.”

“Yeah, I have a little girl, myself.”

“Is she here?”

The smile dropped off Lennox’s face. “No. Belle, ah… lives with her mother back in the States. I get visitation when on leave.”

Starscream looked up the term and associated links, and almost didn’t stop Thunder again in time due to shock. He picked up the infant and brushed the sand from Thunder’s hand. “Human mates just leave each other?!”

“Happens a lot. And yeah, I know, Hide was pretty shocked too. Sometimes things just don’t work for us. So what are their names?”

“That one about to pull you over is Sky,” Starscream answered, allowing the topic change. He held Thunder a little lower, grinning as the infant squirmed and clicked in frustration. “This is Thunder.”

“Welcome to Earth, kids,” Lennox laughed. “Is he trying to pull me down, or stand up?”

Starscream watched for a moment. Sky had grabbed Lennox by the human’s forearms and was kneeling. He pulled but Lennox simply didn’t have the weight to brace against the infant. “I think he’s trying to stand,” he finally said. Starscream reached forward and lifted Sky around his middle, setting him on his feet.

Sky chirred happily, bouncing at the knees, and staring up at Lennox’s face. He reached for the human’s face, but missed, hand landing on Lennox’s shoulder.

“His plating is… soft.”

“It will firm up as they mature. Their colors will also come in too as they age. I’m looking forward to seeing them.”

Lennox looked up, surprised. “That’s not paint?”

Starscream snorted and sat Thunder within the circle of his legs, hoping that would keep him from the sand for a moment. “Our adult colors are bright and defined. Crisp. Have you never wondered at all the brilliant colors the mechs around here display?”

“I thought that was just from scanning?”

Starscream tentatively eased his hold on Sky. The hatchling was staring in rapt fascination at Lennox’s clothing. “It is and it isn’t,” he answered. “We’re like the deep sea octopi of this world. We can change our colors and patterns by will alone.”

“So are those your real colors?” The human laughed, and caught Sky’s hand as the infant reached for his face. “Gentle, baby, I’m pretty sure you outweigh me.”

“He does. And yes, these are my adult colors and natural patterns.”

“What about some of the others? Ratchet got sick of us teasing him and finally ditched this _awful_ chartreuse he had going on.”

Starscream snickered and pulled Thunder back into his lap. “I’ve heard that. But I honestly don’t know. I vaguely remember seeing Prime and Prowl early in the war. Prime was red and blue, but the shade and pattern are completely different. Prowl was white and black, but again the pattern is different. I’m assuming that is due to their chosen alternate modes.”

“And what’s your alt mode?” the human asked. “You look like you could easily be an F22. I’ve seen a Cybertronian with that form before.”

Starscream cocked his head. “I did scan for an F22. It’s the best earth comparison to my original tetrajet format.”

“Ya know… Oddly enough that jet’s name had Star in it to-oo-whoa!”

The human began laughing even as he tried to disentangle himself from a giggling hatchling. Sky chirred, immature vocalizer clicking and chirping out random sounds in his happiness. Starscream had reached forward to break the fall, but did nothing else to assist the human. Sky wasn’t hurting him, and he would stop him if it began to look like damage would be inflicted. He couldn’t help a chuckle as Thunder finally managed to escape his lap, and crawled over to his twin. Lennox had only just managed to get away from one clinging infant, when he found himself caught by another.

Starscream finally took pity on the creature, and lifted his creations away. Lennox sat in the sand, clothing undamaged but quite rumpled, and laughing uncontrollably. Starscream grinned, and laid the hatchlings in his lap on their backs. Their wings had stiffened a little, so it would take them a bit longer to escape this time. He had sworn to never disclose his identity but some damage control would be logical.

“I think they like you.”

“I think I like them!” Lennox climbed to his feet and began dusting the sand off, and straightening his clothes.

Starscream let his optics scan the surrounding area. “This is a very different world, but I agree with Prime in his assessment. This is the best place I could hope to raise the sparklings.”

“Well, assuming the Decepticons hold up their end of the bargain, Earth should be fairly safe now.”

“I was informed of the price the Autobots paid for me.”

Lennox gestured at the hatchlings. “The ‘Cons know about them?”

Starscream shrugged. “I sincerely doubt it. The price for me was high, but I have no doubt Megatron would have demanded far more energon had he known.” In his lap Sky and Thunder had settled down and now lay curled together, optics blinking in slower and slower intervals.

“You had some dealings with that lunatic?”

“Unfortunately,” Starscream smiled. “But I survived.”

Lennox eyed him for a moment. Then apparently coming to some sort of decision, smiled. “So when is Ratchet going to clear you for flight?”

The question struck Starscream with such longing he actually flinched. Sky squeaked and wriggled around before finding his twin’s fingers to suck on. The smile had dropped off Lennox’s face, but Starscream spoke before the human could. “I don’t know. My systems are probably recovered enough, but I was severely damaged when I arrived. I was sustaining myself as well as the sparklings.” He cycled his respiration in a soft sigh. “I trust Ratchet’s judgment. I may ask though, I miss the winds.”

“You should. If I had wings you’d have trouble keeping me on the ground. But humans have long had a love affair with flight.”

Starscream suddenly grinned. “Is that why you and the other… Epps… Is that why you and Epps have asked about my flying? Do you want me to take you flying?”

Lennox clearly tried to contain his excitement, but a wild light lit his eyes in a way that was almost exactly how Cybertronian optics would react. Starscream wondered at the effect, as nothing physical seemed to change in the human. “You would be one popular mech if you offered even short flights to the guys around here. I can’t think of a single one that would turn you down.” Lennox laughed. “Of course, some of the fighter pilots might want to drive, instead of let you control things.”

Starscream snorted. “I can fly better than any human could ever hope.”

“That’s an idea too.”

“Flying against humans?” Starscream laughed, only just remembering to mind his volume so he wouldn’t disturb his recharging infants. “There would be no challenge in that.”

“Not for you, but for them. And you’d get in the air. Hey, and there’s a thought. If these little guys are seekers like you, when will they be able to transform and fly?”

“Your body will long be dust before they are able to fly, let alone transform.”

Lennox shrugged off the words, and pushed back from where he had leaned on Starscream’s knee to look at the hatchlings. “Well, you let me know if you want to take the human fly boys down a notch or two once Ratchet clears you.” Starscream’s knee got a pat. “Health first. Your kids are going to need you around to teach them to fly, whether you want to play with the human pilots or not.” Lennox waved as he walked off. “Catch ya later, Star.”

Starscream nodded and carefully lifted Thunder and Sky into his arms. They would rest better in their berth, and he had a medic to pester. He also needed to inform Prime that Lennox suspected his identity.


	10. Epilogue

Optimus watched, his spark nearly freezing in his chest as Starscream launched into the air. Even from his spot at the edge of the beach, Prime could hear the shrill squeals and sharp chirps of laughter from the twin seekerlings.

Starscream twisted, body silhouetted against the darkening clouds. Prime’s spark stuttered as his lover began to fall back to Earth, but Starscream engaged his thrusters just in time for a gentle landing.

Thunder, his colors beginning to show as the palest of blue in some spots, was placed on the wet sand and wobbled a few steps to the breaking surf. He collapsed into the wash of foam with a happy giggle, and commenced throwing handfuls of sand at the retreating waves.

Starscream ignored Prime’s approach and threw Sky up into the air. Optimus smiled at the shriek, a tone that he teased Starscream was his fault, and watched as the darker grey and lilac colored infant was safely caught.

“There’s a storm coming,” Optimus said, and plucked Thunder out of the water as it began dragging him off the beach.

Starscream smiled. “I know. Here.” He deposited Sky in Prime’s arms next to his twin and kissed them both, then braced a hand on Optimus’ shoulder and kissed him. “I’m going to go dance with the lightning. See if you can have them in recharge by the time I get back.”

Optimus felt a rush of arousal heat his circuits.

Starscream in the berth was amazing. Starscream after a flight was indescribable. Starscream after playing in a storm left Optimus aching pleasantly for days. He only just bit back a moan. “Whether they’re recharging or not, they’ll be someone else’s responsibility when you return.”

Wicked grin in place, Starscream turned away. A few quick steps and he was fast becoming a bright speck against dark grey clouds.

Sky chirped, and Thunder’s little wings flexed a few times at they watch their creator fly off.

“ _Ironhide to Prime._ ”

“ _No way, you cannon-toting slaghead! It’s mine and Prowl’s turn to watch the sparklings!_ ”

“Ratchet’s right, Ironhide,” Optimus said, and turned towards the base. “You had the twins just yesterday.”

“ _Ratch and Prowl can entertain themselves some other way._ ”

“ _We entertain ourselves plenty. It’s our turn to play with the sparklings!_ ”

“ _Stop fighting over my children, or none of you will get them for a month._ ”

Ironhide grumbled, but his link to the comm channel closed. Ratchet snickered and cut the comm as well.

“Hurry home, Star,” Optimus smiled.

Starscream purred before closing the connection, and in the distance thunder rumbled. The seekerlings trilled, optics locked on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [First Flight by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7263340/chapters/16491472)   
>  [On the Beach by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7263340/chapters/16491478)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for 'The Last' Series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263340) by [LB82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LB82/pseuds/LB82)




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